


Decode

by vintagevalentinexx



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 13:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9441389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vintagevalentinexx/pseuds/vintagevalentinexx
Summary: You are a professor of Linguistics who is on a business trip to London for a conference.  However a series of murders and an interesting code make you cross paths with the British Government..himself.Warnings: Description of anxiety and panic attacks, description of violence, kidnapping, CharmingAF!Mycroft





	1. Decode, I

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first installation of my Mycroft Homles/Reader series. I have to confess, I’m really nervous about this. This is actually a story I’ve been toying around with in my mind for at least two years. It’s really special and important to me so please give me feedback, it is greatly appreciated.
> 
> I apologize for the lack of Mycroft in this first part! I needed to set up the story and this was the best way I could think of doing it.

“Please be sure to study for the upcoming final.  I would like to remind you that I will not be providing extra credit.  Good luck and I shall see you after the long weekend.”

You began to pack of your briefcase…err, it wasn’t precisely a briefcase, it was more like a black leather tote, but you knew you had to keep up appearances.  In a field dominated by old stuffy men, it was definitely difficult to further one’s career.  You weren’t one to try to conform to the standards that these stuffy old men set; you figured that people had been doing that for long enough. Where was it in the rules that said that a Harvard professor couldn’t wear a damn sundress to class?  It was hot outside, after all.  You knew it would be hard for people to take you seriously unless you wore pants, but you didn’t let that get in your way.

You were a bright child, always doing substantially better than those of your age.  During your childhood it had been recommended that you skip a few grades, but your parents decided against it, wanting you to be able to socialize with children your own age.  This made you reserved; the little boys and girls wanted nothing to do with a “know-it-all.”  You didn’t need them, or anyone, really.  You had yourself.  You had long ago made peace with the fact that you would live your life in a solitary existence, no one able to keep up with the whirlwind of your mind.  Shaking those feelings off, you made your way out of the building, making your way back to your apartment to continue your presentation for a convention on ancient languages.

* * *

John huffed after Sherlock, muttering and cursing to himself as the basically stomped all the way to Scotland Yard, Lestrade meeting them at the entrance.

“Sherlock, John! Glad you could make it!  Thought you might want to take a look at something that was delivered here today…”

Sherlock brushed past Lestrade.  “Yes Gavin, anything to not listen to the incoherent babbling of Mrs. Hudson all day.”

“Greg, it’s Greg damn it!”

* * *

You poured over another tome of text, your eyes growing weary.   _It’s only a matter of time before I need glasses with the hours that I keep._  You mused to yourself, scribbling down some extra notes that you might need for your presentation. You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, your mind not as focused and weary from translating texts all night.  Floating around your apartment and speaking in a very enthusiastic Italian, you starting collecting your belongings, placing them in your carry on for the weekend symposium on ancient languages.  It was nearing midnight when you finally were able to get off the phone, your things packed haphazardly in your suitcase.  Knowing you had an early flight you finally laid down, succumbing to sleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

* * *

“Well…here it is boys, have at it!”

Sherlock and John peered at the crisp looking brown envelope that was sitting rather inconspicuously on Lestrade’s desk.  John looked back up at Lestrade perplexed, while Sherlock began to rant.

“Really Graham, your inability to open an envelope is the reason as to why you’ve summoned me from Baker Street.  Has the Scotland Yard really become so inept?”

Lestrade threw his arms up in the air, his face reddening, “Sherlock my name is _Greg_ damn it!  And if you could so kindly remove your head from your arse you’d realize that the envelope was open.  Look at the contents.  And for the last time.  My. Name.  Is.  GREG!”

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock picked up the envelope, spilling the contents onto the desk.  His eyebrows rose but only a millimeter, the corners of his lips curving into a smirk.

“Now this is definitely not boring, Inspector…”

John gasped as he eyed the contents of the envelope, now strewn and spread out.  There were photos of three, very random seeming people, gruesomely murdered, their eyes removed, and it seemed as though their tongues were cut out as well.  Amongst the scattering of photos was a thicker, smaller piece of parchment. Scrawled out in a blocky lettering was what seemed to be a code of some sort, symbols that at first glance looked like a jumble of random scribbles.  John watched as Sherlock’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Can’t get it right away, can you?”

“I require silence John.”

“It’s really bothering you that you can’t solve it, isn’t it?”

“Don’t you have dates to flounder on?”

“I’m married Sherlock.”

“Oh…right.  Well do shut up then.”

* * *

It had been a long flight.  The duration was naturally long, but your neighbors on the plane made it seem as though you were on the plane for eons.  Between the crying babies and the whiny man behind you requesting the flight attendant every five minutes, it was needless to say that you were absolutely exhausted.  You hung up your “professional attire” in the closet and left the rest of your belongings in your suitcase.

Sitting on the edge of the bed you wondered how you were going to be received tomorrow at the symposium.  It wasn’t as though you wanted people to “like” you.  Hell, you’ve dealt with people not liking you your entire life.  Why should it change now?  What you were really concerned with was that your colleagues took you seriously.  You shouldn’t have to dress like a frumpy old school marm in order to be taken seriously, and there was no way in hell you were going to be anything but yourself.  You were going to march in there tomorrow, in your dress and blow the toupees off of those stuffy old men if it was the last thing you did.

* * *

Sherlock paced his flat, the slip of parchment in between his fingers.  He had been staring at it for hours, HOURS, and he was not any closer to figuring out with the solution could be for the cipher.  It was absolutely infuriating to him to have to resort to what he was about to do.  He picked up his phone.

“Well hello little brother.  And to what do I owe this call?  Not holed up in some jail cell, are we?”

“Save it, Mycroft. I have an interesting proposition for you.”

“Do you now?  And what could I possibly want from you, brother mine?”

“There’s a case I’m working on.  A code.”

“And you can’t solve it? My, that must be absolutely _aggravating_.”

“Do you want to look at it or not, Mycroft?”

“Text it to me.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he heard the click from the other end of the line, signaling that Mycroft had indeed hung up.  He took a picture of it on his phone, quickly shooting the text to Mycroft.  About ten minutes later, Sherlock smirked to himself when he received the reply:

_Give me 24 hours.  -M_

* * *

Running your hands through your hair one last time, you grabbed your materials and stepped out of your hotel room, ready to deal with the tedious mingling that was going to these kinds of events.  But you couldn’t complain too much, you were getting paid, after all.  Glancing at your phone, you noticed you had a voicemail.

* * *

“Were you able to solve the code, Sherlock?  We just received another envelope.  Same MO, more pictures, and another paper with funny letters on it.”

“I am working on it Inspector, may I remind you that I am doing _your_ job.”

There was an audible exasperated sigh at the other end of the line, as if Lestrade was reigning in his emotions.

“Look, the real reason I phoned was because I reached out to a contact I had in the states.  There’s this professor…consults with the FBI and the lot on breaking codes.  Happens to be in London for the weekend…might be worth it to talk to the old man.”

Sherlock abruptly hung up on Lestrade, breezing past Mrs. Hudson as he left.

“And where are you off to in such a hurry?”

He turned, his lips in a half-smile.  “I have to see a man about a message, Mrs. Hudson.”

* * *

“Please call me back at your earliest convenience.  It is of the utmost importance.”  You shrugged your shoulders, tucking your phone away until after your presentation.


	2. Decode, II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is everyone! You all better give me extra fluffy cuddles after the day I had, because I really wanted to finish this for you. I really like the direction in which this story is taking me, and I hope you do as well. As usual, please let me know what you think!
> 
> xoxo

“…I thank you for your time.  I hope the duration of your weekend is a pleasant one.  Thank you.”

You stepped away from the podium, carrying your papers and notes with you as you descended into the hall, a small smile on your lips, happy with the presentation you gave.  It was nice to finally start to be able to get the recognition you deserved in your field.  You definitely worked hard for it.  Pulling out your cell phone you listened to the voice mail you put off from before.  At first it was a garbled mess on the other line, but the voice on the other end slowly became clearer.  Apparently someone from the Scotland Yard needed your help.  How they found out you were in town, you didn’t want to know, but if they were reaching out to you, you figured it must have been at least interesting.  Making sure you had everything in order you began to walk down the hallway, making your way past other attendees of the symposium to see if you could figure out how to get to the precinct.

“That was quite a presentation, _Professor_.”

You whipped your head around.  Standing at the opposite end of the hallway stood a tall man, dressed in a well-tailor gray suit.  In one hand he held an umbrella.  You appraised him; his dark hair complimented his features well.  He was seemingly middle aged, and by the way he carried himself you could tell that he held some sort of position of power.  You spoke cautiously, wondering what this man’s motive was.

“Thank you, erm—“

“Holmes.  Mycroft Holmes.  I do beg your pardon, but I was expecting someone a little more…well…”

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him as you began to walk, not wanting to deal with any kind of chauvinistic bullshit after you gave such a stellar presentation.  You were about to turn the corner when you nearly slammed into a person who was seemingly going a million miles per hour down the next corridor.  The breath was taken out of you and when your vision finally came back into focus you realized that you had been knocked to the ground.  You were met with a pair of blue eyes and a swatch of brown-black hair. Before you could even say a word the man from before, _what did he call himself?  Oh yes._ Mycroft Holmes was hot on your heels after he heard the commotion.  

“I’m surprised to see you actually have graced all of London with your presence, Mycroft. Perhaps you needed to do some walking do supplement the diet?”

You looked up at the exchange going on, slowly taking to your feet.

“Well it’s certainly about time you arrived, Sherlock.  Were you too busy with all of your _friends_ to realize the possible solution to your problem?”

_Ah.  So the curly-haired asshole’s name is Sherlock.  Got it._

“What’s wrong, _brother mine_ , are you upset that you couldn’t solve the code either?  Is that why you came yourself instead of having one of your lackeys do it for you?”

 _Brother mine?  They’re brothers!?  Well actually…yeah…I can definitely see that._  

You began to back away slowly, hoping the spat the brothers were having would provide enough distraction for a getaway.  However the curly-haired one, err, Sherlock, noticed your retreat.

“Professor…I was sent here by Detective Inspector Lestrade to escort you to the Scotland Yard.”

“You know what…I think I’ll just get there myself…”

“Oh nonsense!” Mycroft stepped forward.  “My car is parked right around the corner.  My driver can drive all of us there.”

“No one invited _you_ , Mycroft.”

“I’m _positive_ the Detective Inspector would not mind.”

You looked between the impossibly tall men, sighing deeply, knowing that you were not going to be able to weasel out of this situation.

* * *

**And that is how you ended up in the middle seat between Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes.**

You sat with your hands in your lap, feeling utterly small between the lanky bodies of the brothers as Mycroft’s car sped towards the precinct.  You chewed on your lips, trying to not make eye contact with either one of them; there was still a small part of you that believed that you were being driven to your death so you made sure to look around and try to memorize as many things as you could.  You could feel the negativity coming off Sherlock in waves, which was making you wonder if this was a typical interaction between the two men.

“So _Professor_ —“

“(Y/N), my name is (Y/N).”

“Ah, very well. (Y/N)…what is it exactly that you teach?”

You turned to face Mycroft, raising an eyebrow.  “You sat through my presentation, did you not, how about you tell me?”

Sherlock snorted and snickered next to you.

“She obviously teaches languages and linguistics, Mycroft, don’t patronize her.  You and I both know you’ve done your research, or rather should I say that ‘your people’ have done your research.”

You look between them both, perplexed.  This was becoming a habit you didn’t like.   _Just what were these men?_

Mycroft gave Sherlock a look, his attention soon turning back to you.  “My apologies, (Y/N).  It is a very rare moment in which Sherlock and I are in the presence of someone with…”

“A functioning brain?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Always tactful as ever.”

It was as though they enjoyed listening to themselves talk and bicker.  You could barely get a word in edgewise.  It was probably for the better.  You nearly breathed a sigh of relief as you felt the car come to a complete stop, signaling your arrival.  Sherlock bounded out of the car as you slid to the street side, nearly rolling your eyes at the antics of a grown man.  You caught yourself when you realized that Mycroft had waited for you near the car.

“You’ll have to excuse my brother, Professor.  ‘People skills’ are not one of his strengths.”

You opened your mouth, finally a lull long enough to say something when the precinct doors swung open, revealing a riled up Sherlock.

“Are you two coming? (Y/N) is Mycroft holding you back because he can’t make it up the stairs?  Brother-mine I thought the diet was going well!”

You could see Mycroft’s restraint beginning to falter, as if Sherlock created the tiniest fracture.  He recovered quickly, as if he had been dealing with this most of his life. _And you were quite certain he had_.  The both of you followed the seemingly younger Holmes through Scotland Yard until you finally reached your destination.

* * *

You held the paper in your hands, looking up at the people surrounding you.   _This is what they’ve all been going crazy about?  This is what I was basically abducted from the symposium for?  This has to be a joke…_  You looked down at the paper, again looking confusedly up at everyone in the room.

Sherlock shared a look with his brother, twin smirks forming on their lips, faces falling as you spoke.

“This is _it_?”

“What do you mean, ‘this is it’?  You’ve barely even looked at the paper and you think you’ve solved it already. Please…” Sherlock scoffed, as you looked exasperatedly around the room, shrugging your shoulders.  

“I’m sorry, but it’s quite simple, actually…”

Sherlock continued to wave his hands around, his curly mop of hair flailing just as much as his arms. Mycroft seemed to observe the situation more reservedly, taking the entire scene in. He nodding, indicating to you.

“Well then, go on then, _Professor,_ do tell us the message we’ve all been waiting to hear.”

You took one last glance; the intensity in which Mycroft was staring at you was almost unnerving.

“It just says, ‘The best is yet to come.’”

Looking up around the room, you observed the faces around you.  Horror, disgust, fear… _It wasn’t because of you, was it?  You’d only done what they had asked of you_.  Feeling the heat come to your cheeks, you excused yourself quickly into the hallway, feeling two pairs of eyes following you out of the room.  

Both brothers spoke at the same time, their voices intermingled so it was not obvious who said what.

“Infuriating.”  
“Fascinating.”


	3. Decode, III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decode, III
> 
> Alright folks! Here is the next installation!
> 
> Please be gentle. There are elements in this chapter that are very personal to me. Some from personal experience, so I apologize if this “reader” isn’t exactly like you.
> 
> As always, please leave me some feedback!
> 
> xoxo

_Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out._  

You steadied your breathing as you leaned against the wall in the hallway.  You hated when people stared like that, as if you were something other than a human being.  You dealt with those looks your entire life.  It was hard for you to help; you couldn’t help how easily some things came to you, it was just the way your mind worked.  It was the way you were hard-wired, and yet it was as though you were penalized for it.  The memories of grade school came rushing back, being bored because you had finished your work, being yelled at for reading a book, being made fun of and ridiculed by the other kids because you were more interested in ancient civilizations and cultures instead of MTV.  You kept your eyes shut as you tried to calm yourself down, feeling your heart slowly retain its normal speed.

“I suppose we got off on the wrong foot, Professor.”

Your eyes snapped open, revealing Mycroft Holmes staring intently at you.  It wasn’t in an overly affectionate way.  It was more out of curiosity.  His eyes lit up with understanding as you tried not to wither under his gaze.

“(Y/N), please call me (Y/N)…”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, (Y/N).  If anything, there’s something wrong with all of them.”

You smiled softly, gratefully at him, feeling your breathing return to normal.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

Before he could even speak, another voice joined the conversation.

“Really now Mycroft, deducing the professor without her knowledge?  For shame.”

“As if you’re one to talk, Sherlock.  I’m sure that (Y/N) doesn’t mind.”

“Oh so you’re on a first name basis now?  How _sweet_.”

“She told us her name in the car, Sherlock.”

You were going to get whiplash with how quickly your head moved back and forth as you listened to them bicker yet again.

“Could you two please stop for one moment?!  What are you going on about?”

They both looked at you now; you were starting to really hate that.

“Mycroft was deducing you, not comforting you, _Professor_.”

“Deducing me?”

Mycroft took a deep breath, looking almost guilty as he had been found out.

“Sherlock it’s not the appropriate time or place for—“

“Nonsense.  Now _Professor…_ By observing the way that you are dressed, it is quite simple to surmise that you strive to appear feminine, something that the overwhelming majority of your colleagues is not.  By overtly dressing in a manner which is quite opposite to that of the people whom which you work, it is a clear choice that you have made.  If I were to guess, my thought would be that it has been a way for you to stand out amongst your colleagues.  In a male dominated field such as yours, you have needed to be able to stand out as to not fall to the wayside.  Because of the demographics in your field, you have constantly had to prove yourself worthy of recognition and praise—“

“How did—“

“That brings us to the quality of your clothing.  It is actually quite good quality, which informs us that you invest in items that you wish to last.  While you may appear to be superficial and materialistic, you in all actuality just maintain your belongings as can be evidenced by the black permanent marker covering up the scuffing on your shoes—“

“I…I…”

“Sherlock, please—“

“Furthermore, from your behavior from before and now out here it is quite obvious that you, despite your superior intellect, suffer from anxiety dealing with social situations, and I would venture to guess in other situations as well.  This probably stems from several childhood experiences that—“

“Enough, Sherlock!”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the elder Holmes, but at that moment you were truly appreciative that he was able to make Sherlock stop.  At first, it was quite impressive that Sherlock was able to pull information merely from what you were wearing.  But as he continued, it became more and more uncomfortable for you to be scrutinized in such a manner.  Before he began he stated that Mycroft was deducing you as well.   _Did he come to all those conclusions as well?  This was just too much.   You didn’t ask for any of this, and you weren’t going to stick around for it any longer._ Sherlock faced you once more, amusement shining in his eyes.

“My apologies, (Y/N). I wasn’t aware that you would be so…sentimental.”

You looked him right in the eyes, trying to keep your temper and feelings in check.

“While that is quite impressive, Sherlock, it only took me a _mere glance_ at you to know that you are an immature prick.  Now seeing as I was brought here against my own volition and I am not getting compensated for any of this…this… _lunacy_ , I will be leaving.  I hope to never waste another breath speaking to you.”

You turned away from the brothers, squaring your shoulders as you made your way towards the exit, feeling hot tears threatening to escape.

It was easy enough to hail a cab, giving the cabbie the directions back to your hotel.  Before you sped away, you gave one last glance toward the doors of the precinct, your eyes catching the older, wiser ones of Mycroft Holmes.

* * *

By the time you arrived back to your hotel you were absolutely exhausted.  Between giving an important presentation to further your career, being introduced to both of those Holmes brothers, and the nonsense down at Scotland Yard, you had certainly had your fill of London for a very long time.  You were longing for your own bed, and a stack of finals that would await your grading the following week.  All you wanted to do now was have a glass of wine, a bubble bath, and some peace before your flight tomorrow morning.

* * *

“Pardon me, but it seems as though my room key isn’t working.”

The women at the desk typed in your information, her eyebrows furrowing.  

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you are correctly checked out of your room.  Quite recently actually…”

“That’s impossible!  I’ve been out of the hotel nearly all day.  Please, is there something you can do?  Where are my belongings?!”

“That’s all I can tell you ma’am.  If you’re belongings aren’t on your person, there is not much I can do for you.”

You were about to give the reception a piece of your mind when you heard someone call your name.

“Excuse me, are you (Y/N)?”

You looked up, a pretty brunette with her eyes glued to her phone apparently was speaking to you.

“Um yes, yes I am. Can I help you?”

“All of your things have been moved to your new room, out of this decrepit hotel—“

_Decrepit?  This wasn’t the best hotel in all of London, but you sure as hell weren’t staying in a hostel…_

“You are being put in more suitable accommodations.  You should find that all of your belongings are there.”

“First of all, who the hell do you think you are switching my reservations?  I am certainly not paying for all of this?  How were you able to do this in the first place?  Who the _hell_ are you?!”

You tried to keep your voice down but you had had enough for one evening.  It was at this point the pretty brunette looked up from her phone.

“My name is Anthea. I work with Mr. Holmes, and he has tasked me with making sure that you are given proper hotel accommodations for your stay in London.  Now if you would please come with me…”

“Did you say Mr. Holmes? Please tell me it’s not the one with the curly hair…because I’m a mere moment away from eviscerating him.”

She laughed, “No, but that does sound like him.  Please follow me; I’m sure you are quite tired.”

_What other choice did you have?  Hopefully you wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch.  It was only for one night, after all._

* * *

You were barely in the room as you let out a soft gasp.  It was the most luxurious thing you’d ever seen.   _Was this really necessary?_  Plush carpeting, soft lighting, and a bed that looked as though if you lied down in it you would have to be surgically removed from its comfort.  

“Why…why did he do this?”

Without even looking up from her phone, Anthea replied.  “He wanted to extend his gratitude for your help earlier in the day…and his apologies for the event following your help.  Goodnight.”

_She’s a real conversationalist._

You looked around the room, seeing that all your things had been put neatly away, the bed turned down for you, a bottle of wine next to the bed.  You spied a note on the pillow.

_(Y/N),_

_I deeply apologize for my brother’s antics earlier today.  He seems to have no understanding over decorum as well as minding his own business. Please accept this upgrade to your lodgings as a request for forgiveness._

_I must say, I was quite impressed with the ease at which you solved the coded message.  Perhaps the Scotland Yard could use your help._

_I do hope to hear from you soon._

_–M_

You fell asleep in your clothes, too tired to even move, and too comfortable to escape the clutches of the bed.

* * *

**_[3 New Voicemails.]_ **

_Great, what could this be now?_

**_[4:45 am] We deeply apologize, but your scheduled flight has been cancelled.  Please call back at your earliest convenience to reschedule._ **

_Wonderful._

**_[5:00 am] Hello (Y/N), I know it’s early over there but it’s quite late here.  I am so pleased to hear that you are helping the Scotland Yard in such a riveting case. Do not worry about your request; take all the time you need in helping them solve their case!  Let me know how it goes!_ **

_What the hell?  I never put in any kind of leave of absence at the university?  What is going on?_

**_[5:15 am] Professor, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade.  Please give us a ring when you can.  We have two more coded messages that we could use your help on._ **

_What is happening?  Who moved my flight and called the University?_

**_[1 New Text Message.]_ **

**_[6:44 am] I hope by now you understand what has been put into motion.  I apologize for the abruptness of it all, but it had to be done.  Allow me to make it up to you in some way.  Please let me know, this number is secure. –M_ **

You were going to kill him.   _How dare he?  He’d better have more than one pretty little girl surrounding him when you got your hands on him._

You furiously texted him back on your phone, throwing it across the bed when you were done.

**[6:51 am] Fuck off.**


	4. Decode, IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series just has me so inspired. Here is the next chapter.
> 
> As always feeback is so greatly appreciated!! I'd love to hear your comments!
> 
> xoxo

_Couldn’t anything just go smoothly for once?  Just like…once.  Please._

You lied on the bed for about fifteen more minutes before you decided that it was time to sort out the mess of the past twenty-four hours.  You padded around the posh hotel suite, the opulence of the bathroom, taking your breath away and absolutely infuriating you at the same time.  You found all of your toiletries already on the counters.  You started to slams items around, grumbling to yourself.

“Who the hell does that uppity prick think he is?!  Calling my place of work and putting me on a leave of absence…just what kind of pull did this guy have?  Him and his brother seemed like a pair of weirdos…ugh!”

Finally cleaned up and freshly dressed you wandered back to your cell phone, rolling your eyes when you saw that you had more incoming text messages.

**[3 New Text Messages.]**

**[7:09 am] I fear that you are not taking things as well as I had anticipated.  Allow me to make amends. –M**

**[7:15 am] I suppose that you are quite vexed with the entire situation.  London needs your help, Professor, and we just couldn’t take no for an answer.  –M**

**[7:26 am] I implore you, (Y/N).  Please respond.  –M**

Your thumb hovered over the delete thread option for a couple of seconds before you decided to just call the Detective Inspector back to listen to the details of the case.  You grabbed your notepad and headed out the door, unbeknownst to you the cameras that panned in your direction as you moved towards the elevator.

* * *

Here you were again, back at the Scotland Yard, being ushered back to the Detective Inspector’s office.

“Ah, Professor!  I’m so glad that you were able to make accommodations to stay.  We could really use your help on this one.  Sherlock is being nothing but a little prat because you were able to solve what he couldn’t.  And so quickly!”

You smirked a little. _Serves him right.  Curly-haired bastard._

“Quite frankly it was really amusing to see him get a taste of his own medicine.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.  “He’s not…he’s not here right now, is he?”

“No, no.  I’m afraid Sherlock is an _acquired_ taste, Ms.—“

“(Y/N) is fine, Inspector.”

“Yes, well…here are the other two slips of paper.  We haven’t received anything new, thankfully.”

You held the pieces of parchment in your hands, the weight of the paper equal to the original one. You remember back to what the first one was.   _The best is yet to come._  Looking at the next coded message, you pursed your lips together as the solution came to you.

_She’s pretty is she not?_

You continued to stare at the new message, wondering what this person was going on about.   _How very strange_.  Shrugging you look at the second slip of parchment, needing mere seconds to figure it out.

_She will be mine._

Well that one definitely was creepy.  You quickly informed Lestrade what the solutions to the codes were.  He looked up at you, his face just as perplexed as yours.

“Well that’s down right weird, isn’t it?”

You nodded, gingerly hanging him back the slips of paper.  “Your guess is as good as mine, Inspector.  Were those codes the only thing this nutjob has been sending in?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.  We have been receiving photographs of an extremely graphic nature.  I didn’t want to alarm you.”

“Do they have anything to do with the messages?”

“At this point, I have no idea.  Unfortunately I’m going to have to contact Sherlock.  You’re sticking around for a while, yeah?  I’ll call your cell if anything new happens.  I figure you want to get out of here before he arrives…”

“Yes, thank you.  I appreciate that.  Please be in touch.”

* * *

You stepped out onto the pavement, checking your phone.  Thankfully there were no new messages, but your let yourself look over the texts that Mycroft sent you.   _Who was he?_  His brother was easy enough to figure out.  They were both geniuses, obviously.  The younger Holmes was rash and clearly rude.  You weren’t sure if he was being malicious or if social cues were something he just didn’t comprehend.  Perhaps it was a bit of both.  You sighed as you decided it was nice enough for a bit of a walk, taking in the normal goings-on of London as you took the long way back to your _new_ hotel.  

Your thoughts kept circling back to the texts.  The elder Holmes was a completely different story than his brother.  From the limited interaction you had with him, he was much more reserved; a seemingly more calculated man.  He had an air of intimidation about him that would most likely make some people falter.  Not you though.  You had dealt with those kind of men for most of your professional career and you would be damned if you let one knock you off kilter.

As you turned the corner you nearly crashed into a woman on her cell phone— _wait…are you kidding me?!  I swear she is going to get hit by a car if she doesn’t look up from that damn phone._

“Hello, Professor.”

“Could you at least call me, (Y/N)?  I know you already know that’s my name…”

“…yeah.  Mr. Holmes would like to request your presence tonight for dinner.  The dress code is—“

“Hold up there, _Anthea_.  I’m not meeting your _boss_ anywhere.  He can kiss my ass for all I care.  He had no right to alter my plans without my consent.  I won’t even get into how he is violating—“

“Please don’t cause a scene.”

You were about to burn up.

“I’ll tell you what, _Candy Crush_.  If Mr. Holmes would like to talk to me, he can do so himself, because I will no longer be talking to his mouthpiece.”

You walked away from her, nearly bumping shoulders with her as you passed.

_Was there anyone in this damn country that didn’t have an attitude?!_

* * *

You had calmed down as you reached the ritzy hotel.  You took the quiet elevator ride up to your floor, hoping to finally have that glass of wine you’d been dying to drink.  As you neared your door, you huffed out in exasperation, throwing your hands in the air.

“What could you possibly want from me?”

Mycroft stood at your door, his face stoic as ever, appraising you yet again.

“You never responded to the messages I sent you.  Anthea tells me that you were… _argumentative_.”

You took a step closer to him.   _That was it._  You were nearly breathing fire at this point.

“Are you serious?! Do you even hear yourself right now?! If memory serves, it’s your fault that I’m this _argumentative_.  It’s your fault that I’m stuck here.  It’s your fault that for some reason I’m on a leave of absence at my place of work.  It’s—“

“You intrigue me.”

“ _Excuse me?”_

“The way you are able to solve complex ciphers so quickly, without a second thought, faster than both my brother and me.  You trudge along all day through a sea of bumbling know-it-alls who think you are insignificant.  They don’t see how absolutely clever you really are…”

He completely disarmed your anger in thirty seconds flat.   _How did he even do that?_  You took a deep breath, defeated.

“Why are you here, Mycroft?”

His lips upturned only a fraction, his eyes softening.

“Anthea was trying to ask you a question for me today.  In hindsight I see how that could have been misconstrued as insincere. Seeing as it is much later than I anticipated it would be, would you care to join me at the café down the block? It is the very least I can do for all of the trouble you’ve put up with in the past twenty-four hours.”

It was your turn to look at him, assessing the situation.   _Well, he seemed to be genuinely apologetic about what is going on.  And there seems to be a real need for you to be here, despite the way that it was done without anyone asking you.  He is definitely more restrained that his seemingly insane brother._

“I suppose that wouldn’t be _awful_ , Mycroft.”

He nodded, a glimmer of a smirk on his lips as he led you back out into the evening.


	5. Decode, V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Here we go. I hope you guys like it!! Please, please, please let me know what you think!
> 
> xoxo

_For someone who appeared as though he could spin a story, Mycroft Holmes was fairly quiet._

You sat across from him in the small café on the corner of where the hotel was located.  You swirled your spoon idly in the tea that Mycroft insisted you drink, trying to think of something, anything to talk about.   _This felt like the most awkward date ever.  Did he think of this as a date?  Do I think of this as a date?  Do I want this to be a date?  Oh for the love of God…_

“How do you do it?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by his simple question.  You furrow your eyebrows, slightly tilting your head.  “What do you mean?”

He placed his hands on the table, leaning in.  He made the table seem so very small, and the space between you was instantly shrinking. As much as he was infuriating you, something about him made you disgustingly curious.

“How is it that you’re able to decode those ciphers so quickly?  I must confess that my brother and I were unable to solve it at first glance, and my employees are still running algorithms on it…”

“Employees?…Just what is it that you do, Mycroft?  How did you know that I solved more than one coded message?”

He pursed his lips, staring intently at you, making sure you realized he was making eye contact.  “I maintain a minor position in the British Government.  It just so happens to make me _privy_ to certain pieces of information.”

You maintain eye contact, narrowing your gaze.  “ _Minor position?  Privy?_  I’m sorry but someone with your obvious intelligence would be completely wasted in a _minor position_.  If you’re going to lie to me please make it more interesting.  I do teach children, I’ve heard just about everything.”

Mycroft looked at you as though it was Christmas.  His lips barely turned upward but his eyes were definitely amused, as if you pleasantly surprised him.  You took a sip of your tea, trying to keep your tough front up under the scrutinizing gaze of Mycroft Holmes.

“As much as I’d love to continue this line of conversation, I’m more interested in your answer to my question.”

You looked away wistfully, shrugging.  “To be honest, I don’t really know.  It’s always kind of been that way…”  You chewed on your lip.

“For whatever reason when I see a puzzle, especially one that involves letters and words, my brain has the uncanny ability to rearrange the letters or symbols so they make sense. It’s like they automatically rearrange themselves.  It’s almost automatic at this point.  I suppose that’s why I take to languages so quickly…”

You were instantly brought back to when you were young, and didn’t understand what an incredible gift you had.  School had been absolutely tedious and sometimes terrible for you.  As a child you never understood why the teachers would tell you to put your hand down, or clearly make eye contact with you and call on someone else.  It became conditioning for you; hide your intelligence, blend in with those around you, or be completely alienated.  This worked for a while, but it naturally didn’t last.  It something unavoidable and you had learned to keep to yourself.

“Penny for your thoughts, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head, feeling yourself becoming flushed, embarrassed that you were so completely unfocused.

“I’m sorry; I was lost there for a moment…”

“He was not telling the truth, (Y/N)…Sherlock.  Well…not completely…”

“What are you talking about?”

“There is nothing wrong with you.  Quite the opposite, actually…”

“How did you know—“

“What you were thinking about?”  The determined, amused look bubbled back into his eyes.  He shuffled his seat over to the side, motioning with his hand at the empty space.  “Bring your chair over here; I want to show you something.”

You looked at him warily as you slid your chair over, the proximity of his form something quite new. It was almost unnerving, but you weren’t sure if it was in a good way or a bad way.  It was…different.  Mycroft looked straight ahead, motioning for you to look at the couple across the café.

“I have a knack for being able to deduce information out of people merely by observing the mannerisms, the way that they interact with others, and other factors, of course.  Now these two for example…actually…”

He looked at you, lips upturning only slightly.  “You tell me. Tell me all you can about them.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.   _What the hell were you supposed to be able to know about two random people?!_

“I…um…?”

“Start with the things that are obvious and see what you can infer from there.”

“Um okay.  Well they are dressed up so perhaps they are on a date…?  Am I doing this right?”

“Keep going.”

“Right.  Okay.  I don’t see wedding rings on either of their fingers…um…they don’t seem fairly awkward around each other so maybe they know each other?”

Mycroft nodded, his lips forming a small smile.  “Very good. So far you have observed that they are indeed on a date, their body language suggesting that they are at the very least acquaintances.  Now look deeper, look at the man’s fingers.”

You take another look, trying to understand what Mycroft was talking about.  You turned back to him, looking at him to explain.

“His ring finger.  There is a significant tan line where a wedding ring should go, or in his case, is supposed to be.”

Your eyes light up, whipping your head back around at the couple.  You try to keep your voice down, but the sheer lasciviousness of it all was exciting.

“He’s having an affair. With a good friend…maybe a friend’s girlfriend…?”

“A friend’s wife…you did quite well, (Y/N).  I knew you would.”

“This is exactly what Sherlock did to me.  You…you do this too?”

“Who do you think taught him how?  However, I certainly did not teach him to be so rude about it.  For that I deeply apologize.”

You nod.  “He seems like he can be a handful…”

Mycroft snickers, “(Y/n), you truly have _no_ idea. This is not the only reason I wanted to meet with you, however…”

Before he could continue his phone began to ring.  You sat there, wringing your hands as he spoke softly on the phone.  Moments later he was putting his phone back into his pocket.

“I apologize for that interruption.  As truly enjoyable as this has been, I have just been informed that your presence is about to be requested down at Scotland Yard yet again.  It seems that they have just received another envelope and could use your expertise.”

You almost pouted. You were actually enjoying yourself and now your time with him had to end.  He stood up as you followed suit.

“Allow me to escort you there, (Y/N).  If I know anything about my brother he is probably already there causing a scene.”

* * *

The car ride was quiet, yet it was not at all awkward.  It was a calm kind of quiet that you really enjoyed.  It gave you an opportunity to gather your thoughts and prepare for whatever was going to be at the precinct.  As the car slowed down, Mycroft’s hand paused at the handle.

“(Y/N)…it is quite rare as I navigate the world that I come across a mind as astute as yours.  Would you do me the honor of perhaps meeting me for dinner tomorrow night?”

A smile slowly found its way to your face, nodding.  “Yes. Yes Mycroft that sounds lovely.”

Pleased with himself, he cleared his throat.  “Well then…right.  I will text you the details.  Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

Mycroft led you into the precinct, nodding a “hello” to Lestrade as you made your way over to the desk with the envelope.

“Really Mycroft, are you here to make everyone’s night miserable?”

You rolled your eyes as you heard Sherlock’s low baritone, not even bothering to acknowledge his presence.

“Brother mine, I am quite certain that everyone is really not in the mood for your petulance.”

“I second that.”

“John!”

“He does make a good point, Sherlock.”

You deciphered the code easily enough, becoming perturbed as you turned around.  It took them a moment to remember you were in the room. Lestrade spoke first.

“What’s it say?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting around, finally resting on Mycroft’s.

“It says,

“ _She’s next.”_


	6. Decode, VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is!! I hope you like it! As always, let me know! xoxo

_What could this all mean?  Who is ‘she’?  I hope he doesn’t get to her…_

You scrunched your face, averting your eyes from Mycroft’s, his face revealing absolutely nothing as you turned toward Lestrade.

“Just _what_ is going on, Inspector?”

He sighed, closing his eyes, gathering his thoughts.

“It’s…well…a very delicate matter—“

“What the _Inspector_ is trying to say is that they are currently trying to find a serial killer that continues to send them photographs of women that they have murdered.  In all of the photographs all of the women have their eyeballs removed. Accompanying these photographs are the coded messages that seemingly only you can solve.”

Sherlock turned to you, stepping closer, nearly getting into your personal space.

“Tell me, _Professor_ , is there anything that you aren’t telling us?”

Before you could even speak, Mycroft was already doing so.

“You cannot be serious, Sherlock.  When would she even have the time to complete all of those murders?  They would have had to happen at the very least before the first envelope was sent, and (Y/N) has been here for hardly the weekend…”

“How steadfastly you defend her, Mycroft…”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, as you stared around the room, feeling everyone else stare back at you. _They didn’t believe him right?  You were certainly not a killer._ You were relieved to see Lestrade making a sour face at Sherlock.

“Come off it, Sherlock. She’s nowhere even close to the profile you were telling us about.”

Sherlock smirked at you.

“Of course, how _forgetful_ of me.”

You shook your head, the muscles in your jaw tensing.

“Well…I’ve certainly had enough asinine behavior for one evening.  Inspector if anything new shows up, please let me know.”

You turned to leave, brushing past Sherlock.  As you walked down the hallway you heard steps behind you.

“Might I give you a ride back to your hotel, (Y/N)?  It is quite late…”

Nodding, you slow down, waiting for Mycroft to join you.  “Does he really think I’m the killer, Mycroft?”

“Of course he doesn’t. He was being idiotic, trying to get a rise out of you.  It’s how he amuses himself.”

It had been such a long day.  You had no idea what time it was, but all you knew was that you need a full night’s sleep.  You nodded wearily at Mycroft who led you back to his towncar.

* * *

“You know this isn’t all necessary.  I’m pretty sure I can find my room by myself.”

He waved his hand. “(Y/N) it would be absolutely bad form if I didn’t make sure you got back here safely.  And we can’t have anything happening to the clever language expert.”

You gave him a half smile, your hand on the knob.  “Despite the aggravation of your brother, it was, dare I say, enjoyable being in your company tonight, Mycroft.”

His eyebrows raised, the slightest hint of mirth forming behind his eyes.

“I hope you sleep well, (Y/N).  I shall be in touch.”

* * *

You were always marveled at how much a full night’s sleep could do for you.  Despite all of the insanity of yesterday, you felt refreshed, more well-rested than you had in ages.  You couldn’t remember the last time you had such a good night’s sleep. You were seriously starting to consider looking up the brand of the mattress.  You lounged around in bed for a little while longer before deciding to check your phone.   _I mean, I’m on a ‘leave of absence’ anyway.  I might as well enjoy it._

**[No New Messages.]**

You breathed a sigh of relief.  It was the most beautiful thing you had seen in days.  It usually didn’t bother you when people left messages on your phone, but the last thirty-six hours had been way too tiring.  You were hoping to do some sight-seeing today while you awaited a text from Mycroft with details for dinner.   _Dinner with Mycroft.  Was this a date now?  Going to dinner with someone of the opposite sex was usually considered a typical date.  Ugh. This is why you didn’t do all of this. It was too easy to misinterpret everything._

You jumped as you heard loud, short knocking at your door.  Finding a plush, fluffy white robe in the bathroom, you slip it on, making your way to the door.  As you look through the peephole you see a man, smartly dressed in a simple black suit. You spoke through the door, knowing that you couldn’t be too careful.

“Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Ma’am. I’ve been asked by Mr. Holmes to drive you where you’d wish for the day.  I shall await you outside.  Please do take your time.”

You bit your lip, watching him leave.  You were about to text Mycroft when your phone came to life.

**[1 New Text Message.]**

**[8:33 am] I do hope the car has arrived by now. Feel free to go wherever you wish. Consider this recompense for all the trouble you’ve been put through.  –M**

Well at least you knew that some random stranger wasn’t going to kidnap you.  Pursing your lips, you quickly typed out a reply.

**[8:37] That is very kind.  Please let me know where to meet you later!**

Quickly throwing your clothes on and making yourself up for the day, you make your way to the lobby, spying the man from earlier leaning on the car outside, waiting for you.

* * *

It had been such a wonderful morning and early afternoon.  You were able to go see all the sights and be touristy, something that you were never granted the chance to do when you went on business trips.  As you were walking around you wondered what you were going to wear tonight.  You didn’t really have much as far as clothes went; you were only expecting to stay the weekend.  Signaling to the driver, you have him take you to a small boutique you were eying previously in the day.

You browsed casually through the racks, taking your time until your hands lingered over an elegant looking navy cocktail dress.  You held the dress up in front of you, smiling a bit as you made your way to the fitting room.  The dress hit just above the knee and fit you in all the right places.  You stepped out of the room to look in the tri-fold mirror to get a better look.  One of the saleswomen fluttered around you, nearly gushing on how _marvelous_ it looked on you and how you must _absolutely_ buy it.  You decided on the purchase, becoming flustered when the saleswoman insisted you wear it out.   _She must be working on commission. Damn._ You smiled kindly to the driver that was waiting for you as you left the store, thanking him softly when he took your shopping bag to put into the trunk.  He hurriedly walked back to your side, opening the door for you.  As you shimmied into the back of the car you gasped, Mycroft sitting in the back seat.

“I assumed this would be much easier than explaining where to meet.”

You held your hand to your chest, feeling your heart beat finally slow down.

“You scared the living hell out of me!  I wasn’t expecting to find someone in the back of the car.”

You could hear the amusement in his voice.  “My apologies, (Y/N).”

Giving him a withering look, your eyebrows immediately shot up, lips slightly parted, recognition washing over you.

“You wouldn’t happen to know why the saleswoman was so _insistent_ on me wearing this out of the store, would you?”

His facial features revealed nothing, but the jollity remained in his eyes, his voice not even betraying him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.  To blame such an _absurd_ idea on _me_ is simply not becoming, (Y/N).”

You laughed openly, shaking your head as he let the driver know where to go, allowing yourself to be comfortable on the lush leather seats.

“Admittedly I’m quite pleased that you agreed to see me again…”

You shifted yourself, meeting his gaze, seemingly always assessing the situation at hand.

“You’ve proven to be much better company than I first ascertained, Mycroft.  I certainly hope you don’t disappoint.”

He nearly smiled, more facial expression you’d seen from him…well…ever.  It was almost predatory, challenging, and it was in that moment that you realized that this was probably a smile that he’d given to other people before, probably when he was being challenged.  You wondered how many people had fallen to their demise after he had smiled at them like that.

“I never do.”

_Oh my.  
_


	7. Decode, VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a wonderful time writing this part up!! I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it! xoxo
> 
> P.S. Please let me know what you think!

_This was truly too good to be true.  This evening is going way too smoothly._

Thankfully you had the mind to know that he was going to take you somewhere upscale.  You were quickly ushered to a table in the back of the restaurant, away from any prying eyes.  The area was cozy, but not overly intimate.  Two chairs were immediately taken away from the four-top you were being led to.  As soon as you sat down Mycroft was already ordering things in rapid-fire French.  He looked up for a moment.

“Red gives you headaches, yes?”

You did a double-take, smiling, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m not even going to begin to ask how you knew that, but yes.”

He smirked at you, smug, as he completed the order, his eyes soon finding yours, as if he were analyzing you yet again.

“Did you enjoy your day?”

“It was rather nice. I was able to do some sight-seeing. I never really get to with the busy schedule I keep.  Thank you for the transportation.  It would have been much more difficult to get around the city.”

“It was no problem at all, (Y/N).  I’m sure it’s been quite a while since you’ve taken a break.”

It was your turn.  “Are you saying I look _tired_ , Mycroft?”

He faltered for a moment, his façade wavering for only the briefest of milliseconds, but it was long enough for you to see it.

“I am merely stating that with someone as coveted in your field as you are, it must make planning a vacation a nightmare.”

You smirked at him, returning the favor, immediately being on your best behavior as the waiter came back to serve the wine.

It was then that you noticed it.  There was an obvious tension between the both of you, but it wasn’t a terrible one.  You weren’t exactly sure what you would call it, but it was apparent that you were fascinated with one another.  You found yourself growing more and more amused at the banter which seemed to flow so effortlessly between the both of you. You couldn’t recall a time where you felt the way you did with anyone else.  You were certain you’d never been in love before, that’s for sure.  Sure, there were attractive people; that was just biology at play.  But a genuine connection with someone?  Someone who could relate to you?  No.  No…that was something you were convinced that didn’t exist for you.  But then you are thrust into this wild situation, in the presence of a man whose mind seemed just as advanced as yours, and for the first time in your entire life, you felt a little less lonely.  From this day on, no matter what happened, no matter who you encountered, you finally knew that there were other people out there like you.

“You sense it too, yes?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Mycroft once again.  He stared at you knowingly, as if he were reading your thoughts the entire time. You could do nothing but nod as you let him continue.

“For those of us who are, shall we say, _above average,_ it can be quite difficult to navigate social situations, let alone dealings with _people_.”

You found yourself leaning closer, completely enthralled.  It was as if he was saying all of the things you constantly think.  It looked as though he was going to speak again, but the Maitre d’ of the restaurant hurriedly came to your table.

“My deepest apologies, Sir.  I tried my very best to keep him out of the restaurant but he simply _insisted_.”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, sighing deeply.  You furrowed your eyebrows, opening your mouth to speak, Mycroft cutting you off.

“I must apologize to you in advance, (Y/N).  We are about to be interrupted by my nuisance of a brother and his keeper.”

You whipped your head around to meet the stormy blue eyes of Sherlock Holmes.

“Ah, (Y/N).  So nice to see you still in London…tell me, how is it that Mycroft forcibly kept you here?”

John soon followed him in.  “Sherlock where did you say this contact wa—damn it Sherlock this is not a case!”

“Oh but John it most certainly _is_ …”

John did a double-take between you and Mycroft.  His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he were a fish.

“Come now John…even you can deduce what is unfolding here.”

John pointed between the both of you, Mycroft growing more and more irritated and red in the face as you grew more and more embarrassed.  He began to chuckle, a grin forming on his face.

“Is this…?  Are you two…?  No.  No bloody way.”

Mycroft not so gently slammed his hands on the table in front of him, standing up in front of his brother and John.  He shot them both a cold look, aggravation coming off of him in waves.

“Leave. Immediately.”

Sherlock grinned wickedly at his brother.

“Oh no, _brother mine_.  The night’s only just begun!”

You blanched as you watched the waiter bring over two more chairs, Sherlock and John now flanking either side of the table.  Your eyes finally met Mycroft’s once more, his offering an apology.  Sitting there for a moment more, you quickly excused yourself from the table, making your way toward the washroom.

As soon as you were out of their line of vision, you made your way outside, frantically shooting a text off to Mycroft, hoping that he had his phone available to him.

* * *

“It’s a shock that you haven’t frightened her off yet, _brother_.”

“I don’t understand why you insist on interfering.  This is none of your concern.  I—“

Mycroft felt his phone vibrate from inside his suit jacket.  Quickly glancing, he noticed that he had a text message.

**[1 New Text Message.]**

**[8:36pm] I am outside.  Meet me there.  Your brother is an ass.**

Fighting a smile, he stood up from the table, making concern wash over his features.

“I’m sorry gentlemen I have to take care of this.  Do enjoy your evening together.”

* * *

You leaned against the building, hoping that he received your text.  Your heart pounded, hoping to high heaven that Sherlock or John didn’t read the text.  You were sure that neither of you would be able to live that down.

“Clever girl.”

You smiled up at him, his face matching your own deviousness.  

“I did not want to spend my entire night with them.  I’m pretty positive you didn’t want to either.”

He stared down at you amusedly, offering you his arm.  “Lead the way.”

* * *

**That’s how you ended up on a park bench next to Mr. “Minor Position in the Government” eating street vendor food.**

Laughter began to bubble from your lips, shaking your head as you thought at the entire situation.

“It is pretty ridiculous, don’t you think?”

He turned to face you, thankful that you were taking the evening in stride.

“I’m sorry that my brother decided to ruin a perfectly fine evening, (Y/N)…”

“Oh…I wouldn’t quite say it’s ruined…I’ve actually been enjoying myself very much.”

He stood up, offering you his arm again, which you gladly accepted.  You couldn’t say you had walked with someone in such a close proximity before, but you certainly didn’t mind.  There was something nice about your arm linked loosely with his at the elbow as he walked you through the park, telling you random and interesting facts about London.  The both of you finally stopped in front of an illuminated fountain, the only sound you could hear was the water flowing and jetting out from the fountain.  You dug into your purse, pulling out two coins, pressing one into Mycroft’s hand.

“Here.  Make a wish!”

He looked at you incredulously.

“Do you _really_ believe in such frivolity, (Y/N)?  Have I misjudged you?”

You rolled your eyes, your smile giving you away.

“It’s not that I believe…but who knows, really.  It doesn’t hurt at least…”

He gave you a playful albeit withering glance, holding the coin in his fingers before tossing it into the fountain.  You took a moment, closing your eyes, before tossing your coin into the water.  

* * *

Mycroft walked you all the way back to your hotel room door after much persistence…again.  The both of you stood there, unmoving, before you finally spoke.

“I really enjoyed tonight, Mycroft.”

“As did I.”

“I’m glad that it ended up this way, to be honest.  The park was lovely.”

“Would you agree to seeing me again, (Y/N)?”

You smiled again.  You seemed to be smiling a lot more lately. Interesting.

“I would enjoy that very much.”

After another short stretch of silence, you couldn’t help but wonder.

“What did you wish for?”

“Hmm…?”

“When you threw the coin into the fountain…what did you wish for?”

He looked at you fondly, gathering his thoughts.

“You’ve just made my ‘ _wish’_ come to fruition…perhaps there is something to these ‘wishes’ you seem to believe in.”

With a hand on the doorknob, you wished him a goodnight softly.

“(Y/N)…”

“Yes…?”

“And just what did you ‘wish’ for?”

Opening the door, you turned around, smirking at him.

“Well…if I told you, it wouldn’t come true.”


	8. Decode, VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the next installation!

_Was that…did you just go on a date?  A successful one?_

You leaned your back against the door, listening to the soft footfalls of Mycroft disappear down the hallway.  A warm smile lingered on your face.  It felt as though you were living a cliché, something that would be in a cheesy romantic comedy.  You had never thought that there was someone out in the world that you could actually carry on an engaging conversation with, let alone someone that you could find yourself attracted to.  

 _Were you attracted to him?_  

Hmm…He was quite obviously intelligent, hell, one of the most intelligent men you’d ever met. That certainly was important to you. It was needless to say that if you were to ever have a partner they would have to be able to keep up with you intellectually, and it seemed that Mycroft enjoyed keeping you on your toes. He had an aura about him that exuded a quiet authority that you found absolutely fascinating.  Though he was older than you, he was certainly handsome. He was tall and lanky, and no matter what his pest of a brother said about Mycroft’s “diet,” you quite admired his form.  He wasn’t muscle-bound; something that turned you off directly.  You’d seen the way that heavily-muscled men parade themselves around as if they were a pillar to fitness, seemingly only interested in their percentage of body fat.  With the exception of his height, Mycroft was physically unimposing; not in a way that evoked weakness, but in a way that suggested he took care of himself, but also liked to indulge moderately, like most humans enjoying doing.  Mycroft had striking angular features that only added to his attractiveness.  It somehow made him seem even more astute; the angles seemingly having to time or patience for curved lines.  His dark hair complemented his eyes to near perfection.  His _eyes_.  If you had to pick one singular feature, his eyes were the most attractive to you.  They were the loveliest shade of dark blue, as if they were darkened by wisdom and secrets. The first time his gaze had turned to yours they were cold, calculating, figuring you out in mere seconds flat.  But tonight, there were so much different, where there was coldness, there was now a curiosity, where there was shrewdness, there was a glimmer of sincerity.

_Suffice to say, it was becoming glaringly obvious that you were becoming attracted._

Peeling yourself from the door you laid your things on your bed, pulling nightclothes out of the dresser drawer.  Padding into the bathroom, you laid your things on the counter.  Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you finally looked up at the mirror, the blood leaving your face immediately, your hands grasping tightly at the counter top.  There was the code that you had been deciphering for the Scotland Yard, in what appeared to be blood, on your mirror.  You took a step back, visibly shaken as you frantically looked at the characters.  Heart racing, you dash out of the bathroom, grabbing your cell phone and purse, making a bee line out of the hotel room. You sit in a corner down the hallway, your hands shaking as you type hurriedly on your phone.

**[12:13am] Help  
[12:13am] Not safe**

You held your phone in both of your hands, trembling, as you rocked yourself, hoping that he wasn’t too far away.

* * *

Breathe in. Hold.  Breathe out.  Breathe in. Hold.  Breathe out.  You repeated this cycle over and over again and yet your heart continued to race.  You shut your eyes tightly, thankful that the hallway seemed to be quiet for the night.  You couldn’t also bear the embarrassment of someone seeing you in this state.  Your face was stained with tears, your shuddering form not letting up, not even a bit.  This was all too much.  You wanted to scream loudly, not caring that it would wake nearly everyone up on the floor.  It felt as though you were out of your body, and you were utterly overwhelmed.  You were too out of it to hear the soft footsteps quickly coming towards you, your body caving in on itself, making yourself small. The footsteps stopped in front of you, but you were too overcome to even will yourself to look up.

“(Y/N)…”

You sniffled, slowly looking up, Mycroft’s voice willing you to do so.

“That’s it.  I’m here.  You are safe.  You are safe.  There you are. Try slowing down your breathing…”

You swallowed heavily, closing your eyes, listening to him continue to drone on, being the safe, logical constant that you needed in that moment.  As you opened your eyes you were met with the concerned, yet inquisitive eyes of Mycroft Holmes.  Gathering whatever energy you had left, you pointed toward your room.

“In my bathroom, on the mirror…”

Mycroft gave you one last look before heading towards your door.  He pulled out a card from his jacket (you weren’t even going to yell at him for having access to your room at this point) and entered.  You slowly stood yourself up; brushing the imaginary dust and dirt off of you as he quickly exited your room, coming towards you.

“It appears to be the same code you’ve been deciphering.”

You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing.   _How the hell could he be so calm right now?!_

“I took a photo and have sent it to Inspector Lestrade.  Come along, I am positive that he will want to speak with you.”

It was difficult to move, your feet barely wanting to shuffle as you move sluggishly down the long hallway.  You flinched as you felt a feather-light touch at the middle part of your back, your head whipping towards Mycroft in near confusion.  He continued to look ahead, as he lead you toward the elevator.  If you squinted you swore there was the ever so lightest dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“We haven’t all night, (Y/N).  Do keep up.”

If you weren’t so shaken and exhausted you would have laughed outright.  As you slid into the familiar back seat of Mycroft’s town car, you seemed to calm down significantly, the further away from that room, the better. The both of you sat in silence…err…as silent as it could be with Mycroft typing furiously on his cell phone.  You looked up at the street lights, the soft yellow glow soothing you.  As the car approached the precinct, you turned to Mycroft, speaking softly.

“Thank you.  I…I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I am glad that you texted me, (Y/N), though I wish it were for something more positive…”

He allowed himself a small smirk.

“I want you to know that no harm will come to you.  I have put you in this mess and I will see to it that you are kept safe.  You have my word.”

You opened your mouth and closed it a couple of times, not knowing what to say, settling for looking at him gratefully.

It baffled you at how quickly he was able to calm you down.  You struggled your entire life with panic and anxiety attacks like this and it usually took you hours, sometimes days until you felt better.  And all he had to do was speak, and suddenly you feel as though you’re in your body again.

* * *

Mycroft knocked with purpose on Lestrade’s  office door, hearing a muffled reply.  Swinging the door open, you were both met with the distraught look of the Detective Inspector, wringing his face with his hands.  He looked up at Mycroft warily, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“Professor…I think you may want to sit down.”


	9. Decode, IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is intense.

_What the hell?_

You furrowed your eyebrows in confused, your head whipping around to meet the concerned gaze of Mycroft’s.  He merely shrugged, gesturing for you to take the empty chair in front of Lestrade’s desk. _What could this possibly be about?_  The air began to feel thick; the humming from the cheap fluorescent lighting complementing the rapidly increasing beating of your heart.  You chewed on your lip.  If someone didn’t start talking soon, you were afraid that you were going to hyperventilate from the unknown.

“Do go on, Detective Inspector.  This melodrama isn’t beneficial to anyone.”

Finally able to take a breath, you mouthed a “thank you” towards Mycroft’s general direction.

Rolling his eyes, Lestrade pushed a packet of various documents towards your side of his desk. He wrung his face with his hands, his eyes betraying his lack of sleep.  His eyes cautiously met yours, trying to figure out what to say.

You looked down at the documents, your eyes growing larger and larger as you page through them, your jaw going lax.  You look up at Lestrade, your eyes demanding an explanation.

Grimacing, Lestrade pulled some of the documents towards himself, holding them up.

“We received yet another package from the serial killer we’ve been investigating.  This one was significantly different from the others. Trust me, I am just as astounded and shocked as you are…”

Mycroft, seemingly curious now, stepped forward; the intake of breath was nearly inaudible as he scanned the photographs and letters.  He made to place a hand on your shoulder, but becoming aware of what he was doing, he quickly withdrew his hand, thankful that you or Lestrade didn’t take notice.

You steeled yourself, gathering the strength to look down at the photographs yet again.  They were absolutely disturbing.  There you were, giving a lecture back at Harvard, just before you left to come to London.  Another photograph of you in the hallway of the formerly secure hotel room. Photographs of you from behind, walking down the street as if the photographer were right behind you.  A photograph taken from a bit of a distance, seemingly from outside, of Mycroft and you when you went to the small café to talk.  A photograph of the inside of your hotel room, a menacing hand on top of your suitcase.  Your hands stopped on the last photograph in the pile.   It was of Mycroft and you when you were at the fountain in the park. Some of these images would actually be considered quite lovely if there weren’t writing and scribbling all over them. In some of the images you were circled, in others you were x-ed out.  Mycroft was vehemently crossed out of the images, the strokes from the pen looked angry and frantic.  This was distressing enough, however Lestrade flipped the images over.  Amongst the scribbles was the same code you’d been deciphering since you’ve been consulting for the Scotland Yard.  Lestrade laid them out all in front of you, your mind instantly translating the ciphers.  You gripped tightly at the armrests of your chair, your fingers going numb.

Lestrade spoke, breaking the tense silence.  “What do they say Professor?”

You looked up at him solemnly, trying to gain composure over yourself, but struggling.

“They say a lot of things.  A lot of terrible things, Inspector.  Mostly about how I apparently ‘belong’ to this person, and that they will stop at nothing until we are ‘united.’”

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Mycroft furiously texting on his Blackberry.  You picked up the document that had come with the images, quickly scanning the cipher to relay its meaning to Lestrade. Taking a deep breath, you continued, your eyes welled up with tears, a lump threatening to form in your throat.

“This…this reads as a confession.  Your serial killer apparently has been killing women who fit my profile, not in terms of physicality, but that of what he deems to be ‘status.’  The first woman ran her own IT business.  The second one was an up and coming banker.  The most recent woman was a sports journalist. And me…I’m a Harvard professor. All women working in male dominated fields…I don’t know how you didn’t connect the dots on that one, but that’s not important right now.  He continues to say that I am meant to be his, and that no one can have me but him. He is growing tired of his ‘cat and mouse’ game with the police and he is finally ready to make his move, so he says…”

No one spoke.  You sat back in the chair, completely exhausted, the giddiness from just a mere few hours ago completely dissolved.  You heard Lestrade blabbering to himself as Mycroft stood stoically, observing you, his eyes betraying absolutely nothing.  You ran a nervous hand through your hair, standing up, excusing yourself from the room.

* * *

_Everything felt like it was too much.  Sounds were too loud, smells were too overpowering, the thoughts in your head too frantic.  Why was this happening to you?  What had you ever done to anyone else?  You knew you didn’t deserve this.  You had worked so incredibly hard to be the successful person that you were today and now some monster of a man was trying to…what?  Take you?  Kill you? You didn’t even know.  What you did know was that this was all too much all at once.  The last few days had been nothing but a whirlwind and you were completely exhausted mentally and physically._

You sat on the floor in the hallway, nearly curled into a ball, your head against your knees.   _What were you supposed to do now?_  You couldn’t go back to that hotel room, knowing that that monster was there, knowing that he was touching your belongings.  A silent sob wracked your body as you held yourself.

It was minutes later when you heard the footfalls of expensive dress shoes moving in your direction. You looked up, seeing Mycroft approach you.  Rubbing at your face, you found whatever strength you had left to stand up, leaning yourself against the wall.  He looked uneasy himself, but you were unsure if he was as shaken about your predicament as you were, or if he was uncertain as to how to comfort a distressed person.

He thrust a bottle of water in your direction.  “Drink, (Y/N).”

_Well, that solved that._

You held the bottle, your hands shaking as you took long pulls of water, feeling the cool liquid travel all the way to your stomach.

“I told you that no harm would come to you, and I intend on keeping my word, (Y/N).  It is abundantly clear that you can no longer remain in that hotel room.  I shall be having several words with the men I had watching over you—“

“I’m sorry, you did **what**?”

“—Their incompetence will be dealt with—“

“Are you even listening to me?  You’re ignoring me, aren’t you?”

“I think it would be best if you were placed in protective custody for your own safety—“

“No.”

His eyes met yours, as if challenging you.  You pushed yourself off of the wall, squaring your shoulders.  His lips quirked only slightly.

“I knew you’d say that. Which is why I made alternate arrangements.  But I dare say that protective custody would probably be a far more pleasant experience for you.”

You looked at him inquisitively.  “What does that even mean?”

He started to walk towards the exit, motioning for you to join him.

“We must make one last stop for the evening, (Y/N).  I’ve already sent for your things to be brought to the new location.”

“And where, pray-tell might that be?”

“Nowhere of particular interest.  Just a flat.”

_Why do I have the feeling I’m going to be mad?_


	10. Decode, X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WhaBAM!
> 
> Here is another installment of Decode!!

_So this is what awkward silence feels like._

The car ride was unnervingly silent; you fiddled with the bottle of water in your hands, the only sound coming from the back seat was the furious clicking of Mycroft’s Blackberry. _So this was the elder Holmes in his natural habitat._  For a moment it was as if you were watching a documentary; you were very well aware of the fact that Mycroft was a shrewd man, however it was something else to see him in his area of expertise.

You watched him intently, studying him as he seemingly made plans for your very near future.  You swallowed, still a little shaken from what unraveled at Scotland Yard.  You had no idea why someone would be out for you, and how long they had been trailing you. _What other kind of photos did this sicko have?_  The car finally came to a slow stop, Mycroft finally looking up from his phone.

“You seemed to have calmed down.”

You nodded, taking another clarifying breath.  “Could you please explain to me what is going on?”

He regarded you for a moment, seemingly musing to himself whether or not you’d be able to handle the information.  He leaned down, speaking softly, almost trying to speak in a calming voice.

“Your situation is unfortunately more complex than the Detective is aware of at the moment, (Y/N)…”

You furrowed your eyebrows, muscles tensing.   _How could this possibly get any worse?_

His lips formed a straight line, as if he knew he’d made an error.

“Why don’t we go upstairs; I can explain it more thoroughly to you once you’re settled in.”

“And just where are we?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Mycroft led you to a large door, and before he could knock, it was swinging open, revealing a kind-faced older woman.

“Hello Mycroft!  Oh is this her?  Isn’t she lovely! Poor darling, going through all this trouble. Don’t worry dear, they will sort it all out for you, I’m positive.”

Your head whipped around to face Mycroft.

“ _They?”_

Giving the woman a withering glance, he ushered you up a flight of steps, readying his hand to knock yet again.  Before he could, a low baritone sounded from the room.

“Quit the dramatics, Mycroft, we both know you’re here already…”

_Wait…that voice is terribly familiar…oh…oh…no. Please no…_

You stared pleadingly at Mycroft as you both entered the flat labelled 221B.  He gave you a sympathetic glance in return as you both walked into the flat, your eyes meeting the inquisitive ones of Sherlock Holmes.

The look he gave the both of you could not be described as anything else but _smug_.  You tried to not meet his eyes, having had enough of this evening as Mycroft ushered you past him, directing you to a comfy looking chair. You nearly felt yourself nodding off as you sank deeper into the cushions.  Mycroft sat across from you, continuing the conversation from the car.  Sherlock stood off to the side, observing.

“As I was saying, your situation is more than what it first appeared to be.  I had my people look into the situation and it seems that there is a reason as to why this _degenerate_ is stalking you.  You were quite the rising star at Harvard, so it seems, and for some reason that didn’t bode well with many people.  One person in particular was extremely vocal about it…”

You sighed.  “Professor Livingston…”

“Yes.  You had quite an altercation with him during a faculty meeting…”

“He was trying to explain to me why women weren’t fit to have careers in academia.  I was merely explaining to him why he was, in fact, an arrogant prick.”

Sherlock snickered, shuffling only a bit closer to hear the rest of Mycroft’s information.

“Very well.  It seems that you have angered this Professor Livingston, perhaps you bruised his ‘male pride.’  In any case, he began making contact with a known ‘for-hire’ and essentially put a hit on you…”

You sat there in silence, both the Holmes brothers looking to see what your reaction would be. You imagined they would think this would be a sobering moment for you.  This had quite the opposite effect on you, however.   _I had to be dragged out of the job that I love, be put in a hotel, now taken out of that hotel, and brought to this jerk’s house because some pissy man got his feelings hurt?!  Fuck.  That._

You pushed yourself up out of your seat to the surprise of both the younger and elder Holmes, nearly pacing as they both looked on, unaware of how to handle you.

“Are you serious?! I can’t go home because a stupid old man was embarrassed?!  That’s why someone is out for my life??  What kind of reason is that?  I should have punched that old idiot square in the face when I had the chance, that dumb son-of-a—“

“Enough (Y/N), your anger is understandable, however—“

“No brother dear, do let her continue—“

“ **As I was trying to say** …the reason we are here is because Sherlock can adequately protect you whilst tracking down the ‘hit man’ if one would even call him that.”

Your eyes softened, your voice softer.  “Why can’t I stay with you?”

Sherlock looked like he was about to retort when the woman who answered the door seemingly appeared from thin air in the flat, carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.  Sherlock rolled his eyes, dealing with her.  Apparently her name was Mrs. Hudson.   _I suppose I’d better remember that._  Mycroft moved closer to you, speaking so only the two of you could hear.  His frame was imposing next to yours, though…not in a way you disliked.

“As much as it pleases me to hear you ask that, (Y/N), it would not be the best choice for this situation.  I appear in several of those photos as well, and the man who is after you is bound to try and follow me home because of that.  I will absolutely not have it on my conscience if you were in any way hurt because of me.  I…I could not bear to do that to you.”

You felt your face heat up at his admission, a shy smile forming on your lips.  “Now that you’re leaving me here, you’re not going to forget about me, are you?”

Mycroft snorted, rolling his eyes.  “Heavens no. This was **the** last resort, believe me.  I didn’t want to put you in hands I didn’t trust, and despite how _polite_ and _well-mannered_ my brother appears to be, he is the only one to whom I trust your safety…”

He gave you a side-long glance, his knuckles only slightly ghosting over your own.  “Besides, I will be taking you to dinner tomorrow night, anyway.”

Nearly grinning, you let out a soft giggle.   _Who have I become?  Giggling?  Atrocious._  “Will you now?  I suppose that will depend on whether or not I will be receiving gentleman callers tomorrow…”

Mycroft smirked, heading towards the door.  “Until tomorrow night…”

You watched him leave, smiling after him, listening for the tell-tale sign of his car pulling away from the curb.  As you turned around, Sherlock sneered, the look of disgust evident.

“Out of all of the men in the world you choose him.  Really, (Y/N)…”

“It’s really none of your business.”

He rolled his eyes, picking up a throw pillow, thrusting it into your arms.

“The sofa is yours. Don’t open the microwave.  Do try not to bother me.”

With that, Sherlock padded away into what you assumed was his bedroom.  Sinking down on the sofa, you curled yourself up, sighing.

_Well this seems like it’s going to be a blast._


	11. Decode, XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you like this next chapter! Please let me know what you think. Feedback is CRUCIAL!!! 
> 
> xoxo

_How did your life come to this?_

Here you were, lying awake, staring at the ceiling in a flat of a man who was what you would consider an insolent brat.  Apparently he was one of the very few that could keep you safe.  He definitely wasn’t your first choice.  In the limited time you have spent with Sherlock, you found him absolutely abrasive. There was no doubting that his intelligence was on par with Mycroft’s, but he lacked the decorum, the subtlety, the—

_Mycroft_.

How did you feel about him?  It had only been a few days, but somehow it felt like so much longer.  As you continued to stare up at the dark ceiling, you raised your hand, bringing your knuckles over your cheek, over your lips. How was it that such a simple gesture, his knuckles grazing yours, could feel so…intimate?  He usually kept his distance from you, keeping enough room between the both of you to be considered polite…but this gesture, this _intimate_ gesture, felt so positively correct.

What were you to him? What was he to you?  You chewed on your lip, sighing deeply.  If you had to be honest with yourself, you knew you had some sort of feelings for Mycroft.   _Was it love?_  At this point, that would be nearly impossible.  How could you love someone you’ve known for only about a week?  You rethought the question.   _Could_ you love him?  Pulling the thin blanket Sherlock so _graciously_ provided you over your face, you huffed.

You were _positively_ in his clutches, and that was exactly where you wanted to be.

* * *

You weren’t sure when sleep finally came to you, but you were certainly thankful that Sherlock had not performed some kind of hellish experiments during the night.  You woke slowly, a scream erupting from your throat as you were met with a pair of inquisitive eyes, directly in front of your face.

“What the HELL are you doing?!”

Sherlock continued to stare, squinting as if you were a puzzle that he had to solve.

“I am trying to figure out why it’s you…”

“Why it’s me, what? What are you going on about?!”

“You’re interesting to many people, (Y/N).  The disgruntled professor at Harvard for instance…and the seemingly psychotic hitman who has formed _quite_ an obsession over you…but _most importantly_ …my dear brother.  He doesn’t get personally involved in situations like this typically.  He has _people_ for that.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up, the blanket still wrapped around you.

“Why do you even care? I thought the two of you didn’t even like each other that much.”

He smirked, sitting back in his armchair, steepling his fingers underneath his chin, his gaze unwavering.

“That is precisely why I must figure you out, (Y/N). I have never seen Mycroft take a personal interest in anyone, let alone a romantic one.  I must know why he finds you so…intriguing.”

You look away from his intense gaze, not knowing how to retort.  You jumped a little as you heard the tell-tale sign of your phone notifying you that you had a text message.  You looked back up at Sherlock, his lips twisted in a smirk.

“Go ahead, answer it. I wonder who it could be…”

Resisting the temptation to curse him out, you decided to look at your phone.

**_[1 New Text Message.]_ **

**_[8:33 am] I hope I haven’t woken you up.  I wanted to wish you a good morning. –M_ **

You smiled, ignoring the overtly loud snicker of Sherlock.

**_[8:34 am] Sleep found me eventually, thankfully. Though to be honest, I’m not sure how much longer I am going to be able to tolerate your brother._ **

**_[8:36 am] Unfortunately he has that effect on nearly everyone he meets. –M  
[8:37 am] I do hope you have remembered our dinner plans for this evening? –M_ **

**_[8:39 am] Hmm…that seems to ring a bell…could you perhaps remind me?_ **

**_[8:40 am] 7:00.  I will send something suitable for you to wear. I trust you will oblige me in picking something out fetching for you to wear? -M_ **

**_[8:42 am] I trust that you will select something in good taste, Mycroft, and not something that would cater to the inklings of the male psyche._ **

**_[8:43 am] I suppose you shall have to wait and see. –M_ **

**_[8:44 am] Is that supposed to reassure me?_ **

**_[9:58 am] My deepest apologies, (Y/N).  I was pulled into a briefing.  I won’t be able to text for much of the day, but do know that I am very much looking forward to seeing you. –M_ **

**_[10:03 am] Until then._ **

* * *

It was around noontime when there was a quick, tight knock at the door at the bottom of the steps. You perked up, wondering who it could be as you sat there absolutely bored for the rest of the morning.  You had enjoyed your conversation with Mycroft, albeit brief and through text messages and you were absolutely brimming with buzzing energy about the promise of spending time with him tonight.  Sherlock spent the rest of his morning glaring at you.

He rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up from his armchair, pulling his door open before Mrs. Hudson could even knock.  He ripped the package from her hands, slamming the door.  Quirking an eyebrow, you watched as he dramatically flounced around the flat.  He thrust the package into your hands, your eyes lighting up as you looked at the neat cursive on the box.

As you go to open the box, Sherlock sighed heavily, just wanting you to look up.  Indulging him, you saw that he was gathering his belongings, slipping on his suit jacket.

“I’m going to a crime scene.  I’d rather not be here when brother dearest arrives, if he can make it up all these stairs again so soon…if you need anything, don’t contact me.”

There weren’t even words for how you felt about the younger Holmes.  

You carefully opened the sturdy box, being met with tufts of tissue paper.  Digging through, you come across a card made of thick cardstock.

_(Y/N),_

_I do hope this finds you in good health.  I know how my brother can be.  If you would do me the honor of wearing this tonight, it would please me so.  You’ll find that it should fit perfectly._

_-M_

You held the dress up in front of you, completely enamored with the color, and if you knew anything about Mycroft, you knew it would fit like a glove.  How he knew exactly what your measurements were, you didn’t even want to begin to know. You found a pair of shoes and toiletries as well in the box amongst the paper.

* * *

It was just about 7:00 and you were putting the final touches on your appearance.  You commandeered Sherlock’s bathroom, making sure not to leave a mess lest you never hear the end of it.  Neatly folding up the blanket you used last night, you hear a crisp knock on the flat’s door.   _How did you miss the downstairs door opening?_

Taking a deep breath you walked calmly to the door, trying to calm your nerves.   _Why am I nervous?  This is Mycroft. **Exactly.**  This. Is.  Mycroft._  Not wanting to keep him waiting, you pulled the door open, revealing the man of the hour. He was dressed in a smart suit, naturally, and the scowl and frown lines from the day seemed to melt away when his eyes met yours.  He looked at you, saying nothing as you felt yourself become flustered.  He offered you his arm which you gladly accepted.  Leaning in, he spoke softly.

“You are… _exquisite_.”


	12. Decode, XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the next one! Please continue to give me all that wonderful feedback. It really is important!!

**“You are… _exquisite_.”**

You tried to not grin like a buffoon as Mycroft led you to the towncar.  He felt so warm, and you realized that this was something that you could certainly get used to.  He opened the door for you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that escaped your lips as he helped you into the car.  You slid all the way over to the other side so he could sit next to you.  He turned to face you in his seat, his eyes focused, curious.

“I hope you had a restful day.  I can imagine that the past few days have been nothing but a whirlwind for you.”

Letting out a soft sigh, you shifted to face him as the car began to drive to an unknown location. There seemed to be a small, permanent smile fixed to your lips as you spoke.

“Well it was quite restful, until I awoke to Sherlock sitting mere inches from my face, staring at me.  He just sounds like a handful.”

Mycroft scoffed.  “You truly have no idea how correct you are.”

You giggled softly. “So…where are we headed tonight?”

He gave you a look, one that spoke volumes.  It was one that indicated that he had something up his sleeve.  It made you nervous, yet excited you all at once.

“All in due time, dear (Y/N).”

You nearly shivered. _Who the hell have you become?_ It was quite clear now that there was something tangible between the both of you. It seemed to grow larger every single time the both of you interacted; as if a rubber band was being stretched taught. _But just what would happen when that elastic finally snapped?_

It wasn’t much longer until the car finally stopped.  You still had no idea where you were.  It was already dark outside, and the car’s windows were thoroughly tinted.  You wondered just where Mycroft had taken you.  He gave you one last side-long glance before he opened the door, stepping out as to help you exit the car.  You slid over, that same nervousness overtaking you as his warm hand grasped gently at your upper arm, helping you out of the car.  Once you were on your own feet, you looked forward.

“…Why…why are we here?”

You looked up, the National Gallery in front of the both of you.  It was strangely quiet around the area, the only sound being the roar of water from the nearby fountain.  You quirked an eyebrow at Mycroft, which he returned with a small smile.

“My people may have…cleared the area.  I wanted you to feel relaxed and safe tonight, (Y/N).”

“But…why are we at a gallery?  I seem to be confused…”

“My, my (Y/N)…and here I thought that you would appreciate something civilized such as art. Come along, then.”

“Isn’t…isn’t the gallery closed for the day?”

“Do you truly underestimate me this much at this point?”

He led you up the many steps of the gallery, your arm tucked into his as you admired the gentle glow of the lights on the façade of the building.  Upon entering the museum that was supposed to be closed, you noticed that the lights were dimmed.  Mycroft looked at you amusedly; as he watched you try to figure out just what was going on.

You let yourself be led into a smaller hall, quite quaint considering the ones he had taken you through already.  Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene in front of you.  In the softly lit room was a lone table, set with candles, the glow from the flames glittering on the fine china that was already set.  It was breathtaking.  There were no other words for it.  And to think, he did this all for you.  To _impress_ you.

Before you knew it apparently your feet were moving, Mycroft helping you to a chair.  The candlelight danced across both of your faces, making the mood much more intimate.  Conversation flowed effortlessly as the both of you enjoyed the ambiance, a waiter coming in from who knows where to make sure your wine glass remained full, and to continue to bring out various finger foods.  It was nice to finally have some time to spend with Mycroft that hadn’t gone terribly wrong, or was interrupted by his meddling brother.  You found yourself smiling and laughing, warmth bubbling up from deep inside you.  

“I am finding it hard to believe that I am in this moment with you.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts, your eyes going to the contemplative ones staring back at you. You placed your hands on the table, your bottom lip in between your teeth.  Mycroft continued.

“I… _this_ … _us_ …this is incredibly new territory for me…and for the life of me I have no idea on how to proceed…”

You swallowed hard, feeling warmth bloom into your cheeks.   _Well at least you know this isn’t a one-sided feeling anymore._  

“I can’t say I’m much good at this sort of thing either, to be honest.  As far as I know, you’re the first person who’s ever taken _this_ kind of interest in me.”

The way he looked at you could only be described as flabbergasted.

“You’re surely kidding…”

You smiled, bittersweet. “I had made my peace long ago with the fact that I would destined to walk this world alone…well that was true until recently…”

You looked away, in disbelief that those words had escaped your lips.  You felt fingertips touching your own, electric shocks coursing through your body at the contact.

“As did I.”

Nothing more needed to be said.  There seemed to be a mutual understanding of feelings between the both of you, the mutual attraction accepted and acknowledged.  The rest of the evening went on without a hitch, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had enjoyed yourself so much.

* * *

Mycroft walked you all the way up to the door of Sherlock’s flat, thankfully no sound audible.   _Hopefully he’s not back yet._   _That’s really the last thing I need._  The both of you stood there in silence, unsure of what to do.  You wanted to roll your eyes at your awkwardness.   _You’re a grown woman, damn it._

“I…I had such a wonderful time, Mycroft.”

He smiled genuinely, the warmth finding his eyes.  “Would you do me the honor of taking you to lunch tomorrow?  Unfortunately I’m going to be in meetings for the rest of the day after that.”

“I’d love to!…I mean, yes.  That would be agreeable.”

You felt the brush of his knuckles again against yours; however this time he took both of your hands into his.  Without breaking eye contact, he brushed his lips ever so lightly against your knuckles, and you swore your soul left your body at that very moment.

“I look forward to it, (Y/N).  Sleep well.” Releasing your hands, he turned, sauntering his way down the stairs, leaving you at the top, a flustered mess. Moments later you regained the ability to think and you made your way into the flat.

It seemed cliché but you leaned your back against the inside of the door, replaying the events from the night.   _Was this what it was like to be cherished?  Was this what it was like to be in love?  How could I love someone so quickly?  Did it matter?_  Shaking your head, you headed to Sherlock’s kitchen to see if you could scrounge up some supplies to make yourself a cuppa.

You nearly jumped pouring the milk as you heard short knocks on the door.  You smiled.   _Is he back so soon?_  Nearly running to the door, you were about to say him name.

**And then your world went black.**


	13. Decode, XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Here it is! I just wanted to let you all know that this one is a little scary/dark so be forewarned!
> 
> Thank you for continuing to support this story, as I have continued to love writing it!
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!
> 
> xoxo

_You were running for your life._

_The burning of your lungs didn’t deter you as you continued to run, to where you didn’t know, but you just knew that you couldn’t remain where you were.  Something was coming for you and you had to get away.  You could feel the rapid beating of your heart, the blood pounding in your ears as you ran as fast as your legs could take you; the burning in your muscles not even able to stop you from running.  All of a sudden the world started fading around you, your surroundings going from a muddy gray, slowly getting darker, going back until you were running into nothingness.  The silence was deafening, and being able to only hear the pounding of your heart was unnerving.  You tried to scream into the void, only to hear absolutely nothing.  You realized whatever was chasing you has caught you._

Your eyes snapped open, groaning as you felt a dull ache at the back of your head.   _What the hell happened?_  The last thing you remembered was opening the door at Sherlock’s flat, thinking Mycroft had come back up.  You tried to move, nearly rolling your eyes at the fact that you were tied to a chair, the zip ties biting into your skin.  You took in your surroundings, just about too dark for you to see anything that could possibly give you any indication as to where you were being held.  It was hauntingly quiet wherever you were and it didn’t seem as though whoever had taken you prisoner was there at the moment. Despite all of this, your mind kept going back to the same person.

**Mycroft.**

_Did they take him too?  Was he alright?  Did he know you were missing?  Did he even care?  Would he be able to find you?_

You were snapped out of your internal rambling by approaching footfalls.  They shuffled along, seemingly slovenly as their approach grew louder and louder.  You kept your eyes up defiantly, determined to see the face of the person who abducted you. You saw a shadow figure of an average-sized male approaching you, your heart pounding against your ribcage, but you refused to look away.  His face became clearer in what little light there was where you were being held.  He stood maybe ten feet from you now as you tried to place his face.  He was fairly average looking, not the Quasimodo, menacing man with a handle-bar mustache you were expecting.  You knew you had seen him before… _but from where?_  

“I see you haven’t figured out who I am yet, Professor.”

His voice is what made it feel as though you were doused with ice water.

That voice.  You had heard that voice every single day at the University when you’d go in early in the morning and as you left every night.  It was a voice that you knew very well, a voice that you had always assumed was nonthreatening.

* * *

_It was still dark when you parked your car in the faculty parking lot.  Just another typical Monday.  You taught classes all morning, had some office hours in the afternoon, along with a faculty meeting.  If you were lucky, you’d be able to get some of your own research done.  Stepping into the building you quietly made your way to your office to prepare for the day, as well as the long week you knew it was going to be.  Turning a corner, you nearly had a heart attack.  You just avoided slamming into the janitor who was quietly mopping the floor._

_“Oh I’m so sorry, I should be more careful!”_

_The janitor smiled kindly at you.  “It’s no problem at all, Professor.  Be careful, we wouldn’t want you to slip!”_

_“Oh yes, thank you.  Have a good morning!”_

_“Good morning to you too, Professor…”_

* * *

It was all starting to make sense now.  You had been in early every morning and had become accustomed to seeing the same faces again and again.   _Just when id that janitor start?  He was fairly new before you left for London…Oh my God._

“I see it’s all starting to make sense now, isn’t it?”

If looks could kill. You continued to stare up at this man, wanting so desperately to pull yourself from the zip ties that bound you to the chair.

“How long…just how long were you watching me?”

He lips upturned into a wicked smirk.  “I wasn’t at the University for awfully long, to be honest.  Just about a month before you headed across the pond.  I really wanted to nab you before your trip, but you proved to be hard to attain…I like that about you, (Y/N).”

You could feel the bile rise up into your throat.  This was a game to this psychopath, and for some unforeseen reason, he decided to zero in on you.  He didn’t even let you say another word.

“You’re just hard-to-get, aren’t you?  At first I was pretty angry that I had to catch a plane…this was supposed to be an easy job.  I couldn’t believe my luck when that geezer wanted to pay me to take you out…but the more I watched you, it became so much more than that.  How that man could ever want to have you killed is beyond me, little bird…”

You wanted to throw up. _Great, now the crazy man has a nickname for me…wonderful…that’s always a good sign…_

“But I followed you anyway, I had to…I needed to make you realize how much we belong together…how much _you_ were meant for _me_.  I may have had some minor indiscretions since I’ve been here, but I just _had_ to make you realize how serious I am, little bird.   _You_ are _mine_.  And you’ll never have to worry ever again…I’ll keep you safe…where nobody and nothing can ever get to you…”

You were fairly certain you were trembling now, partially in fear, but also in anger.   _Who did this man think he was?  Well…he probably didn’t know who the hell he was either because he is clearly delusional and insane._   _Please, please somebody find me. Mycroft, I hope you’re safe._

Your captor continued to talk at you for a while as you tried to make it look as though you were actively listening so you could try and figure out a way to escape.  It was completely silent, albeit the rambling of the psychopath in front of you.  in the distance you heard a loud thud, which pulled the killer from his perturbed fantasy, his head whipping around to the source of the noise.

In a matter of moments several red laser-like dots were trained on the chest and head of your captor, and you felt as though you could cry. Someone was here, and someone wanted to take him down.  Only roughly ten seconds later you head loud boots running toward you, several pairs if your hearing was correct.  You were surrounded by what looked like to be a SWAT team, shielding you from the cries of your captor.

“Take him alive.  He will atone for what he’s done.”

Although the voice was laced with ice, it was the most beautiful thing you’d heard in the past several hours.  You wanted to whip your head around, run toward him and throw your arms around him, but unfortunately you were still restrained.  You unconsciously tugged at the zip ties, nearly hissing as they bit into your skin once again.

“You have yet to free her?  Do you remember who pays your salary?!”

In that instant you were finally freed and you instantly went to rub at your wrists, certainly bruised by that point.  Careful footsteps walked around you to come to your front, and careful hands lifted you up by your forearms to help you upright.  You could finally breathe again.

“(Y/N)…”

You must have looked a mess.  You were sure you were bruised and dirty and possibly in some state of shock, but you couldn’t help let tears fall as you were face to face with Mycroft, knowing that you were safe when he was around.  He swiftly took his suit jacket off, wrapping it around your shoulders as he began to usher you out of whatever building you were being kept in.  As you approached the exit you could hear your captor screaming for you.  The temptation to turn around and look was there, but you steeled yourself and continued to move with your savior beside you.  Before you were ushered into his towncar you were able to see that you were down by the docks, seemingly being kept in a warehouse.   _Typical_. You looked up as you saw a helicopter speed off from the scene, as well as at least a dozen police cars creating a light show with their alarm lights.

You looked wryly over at Mycroft, who held a somewhat sheepish expression.

“Don’t you think this is a little much?”

You could feel his hand at the small of your back as he helped you into the car.  As he slid next to you, you could feel the warmth of his arm around your shoulders.

“I nearly called in a tank.  However the Chief of the General Staff informed me that it was ‘overkill.’”

You tried to laugh, but all that came out was a smile, your emotions betraying you.  Mycroft pulled you closer to his form as the car sped off.  You felt sleep overtaking you, the hardships of your ordeal finally hitting you, the adrenaline all but burned off.  As you drifted off into slumber, you could have sworn you heard Mycroft speak softly.

“You are safe now, my darling.”


	14. Decode, XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bracing myself for the hate mail to come. That’s all I’m going to say about this one. XD

Did you dream that Mycroft had saved you?

You felt as if you were floating, surrounded by warmth as you slowly…woke up?  Were you waking up?  Did that psycho kill you and this was the afterlife?  You allowed your eyes to slowly open revealing a white room, with accents of muted grays, and the occasional hint of navy.  You looked down; you were tucked into a plush white duvet.  You felt as if you were nestled into a cloud.  Pulling the thick blankets down a bit you realized that you were no longer in your own clothes; you were wearing a nightshirt with a monogrammed “MH” in a curly cursive on the pocket.  The corners of your lips turned upward.   _I wonder if this was his doing, or if he let someone else undress me.  Well at least I’m not dead._  You looked down, noticing your bra had been removed.   _He better not have let a lackey undress me, that damned man.  He’ll be the dead one._

It was moments later that you heard the door quietly open, quickly pulling the duvet back up around you.  Mycroft slowly made his way in, not wanting to wake you, his eyes filling with relief when he sees that you are indeed awake.  You had never seen him so disheveled before.  His jacket was off, its location currently unknown to you, his shirtsleeves were rolled up, his tie loosened.  His hair (that you wanted to run your fingers through) looked as though he had run his hands through it with worry and stress.  The dark circles around his eyes suggested that he either had terrible sleep or none at all.  You wondered which was actually worse.  You sat up, the blanket still pulled around you as he took a seat on the edge of the bed, the slightest tinge of amusement in his eyes.

“I was wondering when you would wake up.”

You shot him a look, the heat only last for seconds.

“Well, I was kidnapped by a psychopath.  I figured that I could sleep in just a bit.”

He smirked, rubbing at his tired eyes.

“I wanted to inform you that your kidnapper has been successfully apprehended.  You will not have to ever worry about him ever again. He was taken care of…”

You quirked an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that mean?”

Mycroft pursed his lips, his own eyebrow raising.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, closing it again, as if he were contemplating what he was going to say to you.

“At this moment in time…I believe it is for the best that you remain in the dark about the details, (Y/N).  I can assure you that you are in fact safe and the threat has been neutralized.  The professor that put the hit out on you in the States has been apprehended as well.  I’m afraid that’s all I can tell you.”

You nodded.   _Minor position in the government, my ass._ You let the blankets fall around you, swinging your legs around the side of the bed on which Mycroft was sitting.  The side of one of your bare legs pressed against his clothed thigh, his body heat seeping into your skin.

“I did have a question for you actually.”

He turned to face you, his eyes inquisitive.  “Do go ahead. I’m not sure if I can handle the suspense.”

“I seem to be in a different set of clothing than I was previously wearing.  Just how did that happen, exactly?”

Your question caught him off guard, his expression sheepish as if you caught him doing something naughty.

“I…I wouldn’t allow anyone near you once we arrived at my flat.  I couldn’t know you were completely safe unless it was me watching over you.”

You bit your lip, a little taken back by his answer, wondering when he became so sentimental. You weren’t however ready to let him off the hook just yet.

“I seem to also be missing a certain undergarment…”

You could have sworn that you saw the faintest tinge of red bloom on Mycroft’s cheeks.

“Well…erm…yes…well I am aware that your undergarment is lined with wire and I surmised that it would not be pleasant to sleep in so I removed it.  I assure you that I took the utmost care in maintaining your modesty.”

You giggled softly, bumping your leg against his.

“Thank you for taking care of me.  I’m glad it was you, to be honest.  I wouldn’t want some stranger touching me.”

“It’s a good thing we are in agreement.  I don’t want anyone else touching you either…”

It was your turn to shy away, slightly flustered.   _Had he really admitted that?  You knew the attraction was there, but just what else was he thinking about you?  You wished that you could read his mind._

When you finally turned back to face him, he was staring at you intently, as if he were trying to memorize every single detail to your face.

“(Y/N)…I know we haven’t known each other long, but I cannot help but feel as though I am drawn to you, and I know that you are as drawn to me.  I am a man of reason, of science and logic, but spending time with you has defied everything I thought I have ever known to be true…”

You were about to interject, but Mycroft continued to speak.

“…Up until this very point in my life I have lived by the simple principle that sentiment, feelings, caring is not an advantage.  However when I was alerted of your abduction, and when I saw how afraid and vulnerable you looked last night, everything I’ve ever known about myself has been completely altered.”

His hand found yours, hesitantly lacing his fingers with yours.

“I have been called the Ice Man, a man without emotion, but it seems as though you have beat me at every turn.  You were asked to decipher several bits of text, but it seems that it is I that you have decoded.”

Mycroft stood up, taking you along with him, taking your hands into his own.  You were a little shaky still on your feet, but he helped keep you upright.

“(Y/N)…I have never been bested by anyone, and it appears that you have most certainly been proclaimed the victor.  Please…let the victor claim her spoils.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes wild.  “W-what are you saying, Mycroft?!”

He looked down at you tenderly, giving your hands a firm squeeze.

“Stay with me, (Y/N). Be with me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your mouth agape.   _What is happening right now?!  Was he serious?!  Surely he is drunk right now.  He wants me to stay here with him?!  Leave everything I’ve ever known for a man I’ve known for such a short period of time?!_  Sure you could feel yourself slowly falling for him, and enjoying every minute of it, but you had your life in the states.  You had your job that you loved, and your students that depended on you. And your research!  How could you possibly leave all of that behind?

Your eyes were sad, your heart breaking as his eyes dulled, coming to the same realization as you just did.  You let go of his hands, watching them fall to his sides.  You spoke softly.

“I **can’t**.”


	15. Decode, XV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The final installment of Decode! I hope you all have enjoyed this journey as much as I have!! It will be bittersweet not writing this series anymore, but I’m excited to move onto to other things. Please let me know what you think. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

This is the last time you’d ever go to a damn weekend conference.

You had found yourself in a whirlwind of mystery and murder all so quickly.  What you didn’t expect was that you’d find someone that you didn’t have to dumb your speech down for, someone who innately knew just how you were feeling.  And just like that, you gave it all up.  He was asking something of you that you weren’t sure you were ready to do.   _Leave your entire life behind?  The career you’d scraped and clawed for?  How could he possibly think that you’d give that all up?_

You tried your very best to forget the way Mycroft looked at you, the tiny sliver of a moment where he looked utterly devastated before his walls went flying back up, the icy exterior quickly reformed, the ever, almost too-polite persona of what the outside world perceived to be Mycroft Holmes.  You knew better though.  

Sitting in the not-so comfortable airplane seat, you picked at the skin around your fingernails, a nervous habit you’d had since you were a child.  You looked around at all the people, mostly seemingly American.  You tried to take in every detail, your thoughts going back to the night when you sat in the café with Mycroft and people watched.  It seemed like it was already a lifetime ago, and yet you remembered that night so vividly. You were almost consumed by this fond memory when a swath of dark curly hair caught your eye.  The person in question was tall and male, dressed in a flight attendant’s uniform, and currently heading towards the lavatories.

 _No.  No no no. It couldn’t be…well it could be, and it would damn figure at this point._  

You quietly slid out of your seat, following the very suspicious flight attendant through the curtain.  He was waiting there for you, smirking as you groaned, rolling your eyes.

“What the **hell** are you doing here?!  How did you even get on this plane?!”

“Really now, (Y/N) I would assume Mycroft’s partner to be a little cleverer than that…”

“Partner? Sherlock, we’re not…I didn’t…”

“Come now, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did he send you here?”

“You really think that Mycroft would send me in his stead?  Are you really as clever as he makes you out to be?

You throw your hands up in the air, exasperated.  “Then why are you here, Sherlock?  The plane is about to take off!”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“How the hell would you even know?  You know nothing about the time we spent together.  It was has nothing to do with you!  Let me get back to my life.  The case is over!”

Sherlock grasped at your upper arm, pulling you closer so no one could hear.

“Tell me.  When is the last time you felt like there was someone out there that understood you, something that treated you like an equal, someone that even though they haven’t known you long, wanted to activate the entire armed forces to ensure your safe release from the clutches of that deranged man? My brother is a cold, calculating taskmaster, intent on running the entire British government on his own, but he also almost seems as though he could be human when you are around him.”

You went to speak but Sherlock only continued.

“I can say without a doubt you have been living your life by going through the motions, content, no, complacent, rather with the fact that there wouldn’t be anyone that you could consider any kind of life with, let alone someone that could actually spark your interest.  I am positive you cannot recall a moment in your life where you have taken a risk.  As much as this pains me to say, and I will deny it if it is ever brought up again, the both of you are incredibly compatible and it would be an absolute shame for _both_ parties if this… _entanglement_ were not fully explored.”

You stood there speechless, not knowing what to say.  This man had been nothing but awful to you the entire time you were in London, but here he was, trying his best to plead Mycroft’s case, without him even knowing that he was there.  You didn’t have time to respond, however.  The plane had jolted to a stop on the runway, mere meters away from being set in position to take flight.  You could hear the tell-tale sign of steps being wheeled over to the plane, cars driving furiously towards the aircraft.  Sherlock looked at you mischievously.

“Apparently I wasn’t the only one attempting a Hail Mary play.”

As soon as the doors opened Sherlock fled down the steps, leaving you in the airplane utterly confused. _Just what the hell was he going on about?_  You chewed your lip.   _Did you really want to leave?  Were you just trying to run away from these feelings? Could you really start a career here? You didn’t want to be put up on a shelf like a porcelain doll; you had ambition and drive that needed to be satisfied._

Your train of thought was broken by two men entering the airplane, gesturing for you to go down the steps.  It didn’t seem as if you had much of a choice, the intimidating forms of both of the suited men towering over you.  As you walked down the steps you saw a man at the other side of the runway, and you knew exactly who it was.

Your feet brought you nearer to him faster and faster, the world dissolving around you as you could only look at his face.  He stood there apprehensively, and a wave of nerves rushed over you.  As you finally stood face to face with him, you could tell he was moderately nervous, uncomfortable, and unsure.

“I don’t typically make grand romantic gestures, but I supposed that it was worth a try.  I…this is all new for me, and I’m assuming it is just as new for you as well, (Y/N).  I meant every single word I said last night to you, and I will be damned if you throw it all away, throw… _us_ away.”

“I…I don’t know what to do, Mycroft.  I have a life back in the States, a career, students who depend on me…”

“Which are all things that you can have here, but with one important, vital addition.  Do you know of what I am speaking of, (Y/N)? Surely by now you can surmise it.”

You took a step forward, closing the space between his body and yours.

“I want to hear you say it.  I want to hear the reason as to why you’re ready to move mountains, call in every single military organization.  I need to hear you say it.  Tell me what is worth remaining here.”

He took your hands in his once more, this time pulling your body flush to his own.  You saw his pupils dilate; just as you knew your own were doing.  His voice was only slightly hoarse as he let one of his hands press against the small of your back.

“I love you, (Y/N). I never thought I’d love anybody, but here I am, interrupting all of the flight patterns of the Heathrow Airport to tell you that I love you.”

You grabbed the collar of his pristine white shirt, pulling him into a burning kiss, just imaging how his eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline.  You felt his body release its tension, arms cradling your own form. As much as you wanted to sear your lips to his for all of eternity, you unfortunately needed to breathe.  

“Shall I take that as your physical demonstration of reciprocation of my feelings?”

You roll your eyes. “Do you always have to sound to proper?”

He chuckled, linking his arm in yours as he started pulling you towards a conveniently timed black car.   _Oh…but wait._

“What about my luggage on the plane?  And all of my belongings back in the States?  I have to go back and get them at least…”

Mycroft looked away, but his sheepish expression didn’t escape you.

“What.  Did.  You. Do.”

He opened the car door, ushering you into the backseat, speaking as you moved.  “I…may have already arranged for all of your things to be moved…”

You gave him a withering glace, which quickly melted into amusement.

“You are aware that I should be mad at you right now, yes?”

Mycroft looked at you amusedly, his fingers loosely laced in yours as the car pulled away from the airport.

“But you’re not. You’re in love.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder.

**It wasn’t exactly riding off on a horse into the sunset, but it was pretty damn close.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue!! It is LOOOONG. xoxo


	16. Decode, Coda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The epilogue you’ve been waiting for! I Have to say, this one got away from me a bit, but I hope you enjoy it. This was a labor of love, and I hope to revisit the elder Holmes one day. Thank you for always continuing to support me! xoxo

_Six months later_

You were finding that you were adjusting to life abroad effortlessly.  It just so happened that you were able to continue your research although you were in London.  It was amazing what Skype could accomplish.  Mycroft insisted that you remain with him, saving you the trouble of finding your own flat.  While you were stubborn, he was unrelenting and “he’d be damned if he almost lost you again.”  You rolled your eyes just thinking about it.

It was quite simple to Skype into classes once a week at Harvard; still retaining some part of the life you had made for yourself in the States.  You busied yourself by giving lectures around the colleges and universities in London, as well as consulting for Scotland Yard when they needed your specific skill set.

While you were enjoying keeping yourself busy, it seemed to be increasingly frustrating for your “flatmate.”  Had he expected you to just remain in the flat for him, waiting on baited breath for him to return from being the British government all day long?  If he really thought he could keep you in a gilded cage, he must really be losing his mind.  You were sitting at your desk, he had graciously rearranged things in his flat to give you some space to work, when you received a text from the Government himself.

**[1 New Text Message]**

**[1:23 pm]** Good afternoon, my darling.  I do hope the day has been productive for you. –M

 **[1:25 pm]** It’s been business as usual.  I seem to be slightly ahead of schedule which will make for a quiet evening.

 **[1:31pm]** Marvelous.  If it would be agreeable with you, I would very much like to take you to dinner tonight. –M

You smiled.  You knew he was looking for banter.  It was one of the things you had grown to enjoy about being with the elder Holmes.  At first glance an ordinary person wouldn’t assume that Mycroft Holmes liked to play the cat and mouse game, but you knew different.

 **[1:35 pm]** Hmmm…I may be able to pencil you in. However, I’m sure I’d be able to accommodate you if you make it worth my while.

 **[1:37 pm]** Is that so?  My darling, what I have planned will most certainly keep you occupied this evening. –M

Before you had time to reply he sent another text.

 **[1:38 pm]** Be ready for 7.  Wear that blue dress I adore so much on you.  –M

You knew at that point that he would not be speaking to you until later on that night.  You bit your lip in anticipation, wondering if tonight was going to be the night. The both of you had spoken about it at length, and Mycroft was incredibly patient, not wanting to force or rush you into anything.  You remembered that night quite vividly.

* * *

_The gala that Mycroft had dragged you to had gone magnificently well.  He was able to rub elbows with dignitaries and foreign officials with ease while you were on his arm.  You were able to make jokes, interesting conversation, and converse with several different important contacts because of your linguistics background.  You caught yourself observing Mycroft in his “natural habitat,” working his way around the room with such determination and charm that you were becoming flustered.  You took another sip from your wine glass as you felt his glance finally land on you. His look was nearly predatory, ushering you to a darker, less populated part of the room.  If you didn’t know any better, his gaze would have unnerved you, but this was a man who was ready to call in tanks and war machines to assure your safety._

_“You seem to be quite pleased with yourself tonight, Mycroft.”_

_The corners of his lips turned upward, smirking. “Indeed, my darling.  However this evening might not have gone so swimmingly if it had not been for you.  Your charm is certainly not lost on me.”_

_He moved closer to you, nearly purring into your ear, the sensation of his hot breath on the shell of your ear making goosebumps raise down your neck, blooming onto the rest of your skin._

_“Allow me to show you just how appreciative I am when we get home tonight.”_

_You bit your lip, already feeling the heat seep into your cheeks, a pool of arousal bubbling up into your lower belly.  You wondered if you were ready, the thought both excited and terrified you, but you weren’t sure which emotion would win the night._

_It was only an hour or two after that moment that you were already back at the London flat.  His lips were upon yours, and you were upon his lap as his lithe fingers found the zipper to your dress.  You could feel him hardening against you, your heart was beating rapidly, as if it were slamming against your ribs.  You opened your eyes to see his, pupils blown out wide, completely focused on you.  As you heard the zipper start to open, you tensed up, his hands immediately halting as he felt your muscles twitch._

_He appraised you, his breathing retaining a more normal pace.  “(Y/N), what is bothering you?”_

_You looked away ashamed, your eyes burning, threatening to spill over with tears, and that tell-tale lump was already forming in your throat._

_“It’s not you, Mycroft.  Please understand.  I know everyone says that stupid line, but it really isn’t you and—“_

_You continued to ramble until he rolled his eyes, his hands finding your shoulders, squeezing firmly._

_“You’ve thoroughly explained to me that I am blame free, yes I understand.  Please tell me what is ailing you.”_

_You sighed deeply, reaching out to fix his mussed up hair.  “So here’s the thing…I’m…well…you could say that I’m lacking certain **experiences** that would make this evening enjoyable.”_

_His eyes widened for only a second, but it was enough for you to start to remove yourself from his lap.  He grabbed at your forearm, pulling you right back down. He took your face in both of his hands, cupping your cheeks as he pressed a kiss to your forehead._

_“(Y/N)…the last thing I would ever want is for you to feel rushed into something.  Especially something that could be of importance to you…”_

_“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to…it’s just…my work keeps me so occupied and well, you’re really kind of the first relationship I’ve ever been in—“_

_You could hear him mutter “and the last” under his breath._

_“I’ve always wanted it to be with someone that I care about deeply.  Not just a one off kind of deal.  Does that make sense?”_

_He simply nodded, fingers running up and down your upper arms.  “It makes complete sense, truly.  I am willing to wait forever until you are ready, my darling.”_

_You smiled timidly, embracing him, allowing your head to lean against his chest._

_“I am baffled though at how a woman like you hasn’t lain with another…”_

_You gave him a playful, withering look._

_“Although it does bring me great joy that you will have no memories of some bumbling, stumbling fool trying to bring you an iota of pleasure—“_

_“Mycroft!”_

_He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple, whispering once again in your ear._

_“I can assure you that I am a most proficient lover and will attend to your every single need.”_

_You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again, shoving his arm playfully.  The both of you sat like that for the rest of the night, needling each other and peppering each other’s faces with soft, lingering kisses._

* * *

You spent the remainder of the day finishing up some paperwork, and decided that it was time to finally get ready for dinner.  You slipped on the blue dress, smiling to yourself in the mirror.  

Mycroft bought this dress for you a while back, and you had, at first had misgivings of the way it would fit.  Of course, he had picked something that fit you like a glove, and you smoothed out the sides of the dress as you put the finishing touches on your lipstick.  At 7pm sharp you slowly made your way down corridor, expecting Mycroft to be waiting patiently.  Who you were greeted with was probably the last person on the entire planet you wanted to see at that very moment.  You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, but you found yourself failing.

“What the HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Sherlock merely smirked at you, motioning for you to follow him outside.  You however stayed put.  He rolled his eyes.

“Mycroft asked for me to bring you to him.  He would have had a driver come to pick you up, but he didn’t want to put your life in the hands of a stranger.”

“So he sent for you…?”

He scoffed, upturning his collar, swinging the door to the flat open.  

“While I have no idea why you would want to spend any amount of time with Mycroft than absolutely necessary, it is mostly likely that you are to be my sister-in-law eventually so I do find it pertinent to make sure you are safe.”

You had no idea what to say, but you were sure that you could catch flies with how far your jaw had dropped.

“Sherlock…I…I—“

“No need for sentiment, (Y/N).  We wouldn’t want to ruin ‘the big night’ now would we?”

You shot him a withering glance, throwing your coat on as you breezed past him, trying to not let him get one up on you.  You slipped into the black car, feeling Sherlock’s gaze plastered to your back.

“You didn’t think I knew what this was, did you?  Please, (Y/N) you must give me a bit more credit than that.  Mycroft never entertains in the country house, unless it is for something special…”

“The country house? That’s where we’re going?”

Sherlock wordlessly started the engine, which made you hurriedly buckle yourself in, silently wishing there were more seatbelts in the back…and that you had a soundproof partition. Mycroft had been promising to take you to the country house when he had enough time to spend there with you.  You felt a thrill shoot through you on finally being able to see the house.  As you continued to daydream you didn’t realize that you had actually made it to your destination.   You felt the car come to a stop, Sherlock shifting, turning around to face you.

“Now (Y/N) I know you are not a naïve woman but please be sure to take the proper precautions while you are fornicating tonight.  We wouldn’t want you to have a child out of wedlock.  You’d break Mummy’s heart.”

You gasped, the desire to punch him in the throat intensifying.  He studied your face, his eyes widening.

“It is…this would be your first time, wouldn’t it?”

“What the hell would you know about that, Sherlock?”

“Your inexperience is clear as day, _sister-mine_.  I can obviously tell from—“

“Sherlock!  Not another word.  So help me if you continue I will call your mother and let her know just how _courteous_ you’re being.”

He huffed and turned around, unlocking the door.  You stepped out of the car without saying anything else, staring at the beautiful country house in front of you.  To call it a house would be an understatement.  It was quite a large old stone building, and you were positive that the inside was just as ornately decorated as you imagined.  You smiled at the way the lights from the windows made the entire front garden glow.  You walked up the path to the door, trying not to get too excited as you saw Mycroft standing in the doorway, jacket off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He propped himself against the door.

“Doing a little late night loitering are we, Miss?”

You shrugged. “It’s a bit chilly out here.  You wouldn’t happen to know where I could go to warm up?”

“I do believe I know such a place.”

You finally made it to him, Mycroft instantly encasing you in his arms.  He pressed a chaste kiss to your temple, pulling you into the warmth of the house.

“Welcome to my home.  I do hope that you will be comfortable here.”

* * *

You felt his presence shift behind you, his hands smoothing down your covered arms.  You unbutton your coat, ready to take it off when his hands move faster than yours, slowly pulling the garment off of you. His front is nearly pressed to your back, and you nearly shudder as he purrs into your ear.

“I’ve waited so very long for us to be able to have some time alone, my darling.  I’ll have you know that I’ve turned my phone off for the evening.”

You turned around in his arms, smiling, your hands placed on his chest.  “That in itself is a present enough, Mycroft.”

You felt him tense only momentarily underneath your hands before he broke his embrace, ushering you further into the house.

“Yes, yes very well. However I have much more planned for tonight, (Y/N).”  

Mycroft deposited you in a plush chair in a large dining room.  It was made more intimate with the lights dimmed, candles lit.  You watched him disappear through another door.  The table was set for two, and you found yourself unable to stop smiling as you took in the room.  This was something that he must have put a lot of thought into. Mycroft was not one for grand romantic gestures—he was blunt and straightforward with his affections for you, once he knew of them himself.  Before you knew it, Mycroft was entering the room once more, placing plats down on the table.  He walked over to a cabinet, pouring the both of you very full glasses of wine, before finally taking his place beside you at the table.

“This is all very lovely. When you said we were going to dinner, I must confess I wasn’t imagining this…”

“So it is possible to still surprise you, (Y/N)?  I imagined this would be more private, more comfortable.”

“While it’s unexpected, it’s wholeheartedly appreciated, Mycroft.  This is wonderful.”

Before you could say anything else, you felt the gentle pressure of his hand overtop yours.  You shifted your gaze to meet his eyes.  He took another sip of wine before he spoke.

“(Y/N)…if it is not abundantly clear by this point in the evening, I want you to know that I fully intend on seducing you tonight.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, immediately feeling flush, arousal pooling low in your belly.

“And…and how do you intend on doing that…?”

He was already smiling, predatory, making you feel small (yet excited) under his gaze.  “I see that it is quite effective already.”  

You squirmed a little in your seat, your meal becoming very interesting all of a sudden.

Mycroft chuckled softly, his hands going to his utensils.  “Shall we enjoy the meal?”

You sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the food that Mycroft prepared for the both of you, your favorite meal, of course.  He was pulling out all the stops tonight for you, after all.  While you enjoyed the peace with him, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander back to the simple sentence that Mycroft uttered just a little while before.  It was so succinct and sure, which did nothing to help the ache that had settled into your body.  He seemed to take notice of this, like he does with everything.

“You seem quieter than usual tonight, my dear.  Is there something on your mind?”

 _Damn him_.  He knew what was on your mind.  He put it there for crying out loud.  You took a long pull from your wine glass, trying to calm your nerves.

“I know that you know I want this, Mycroft…I…it’s just…”  You sighed, drinking yet again from the glass.

“Go on, dear.”

“How could I ever…how…what if I’m not…”

He pulled his chair closed to yours, taking both of your hands into his, making you shift your chair, facing each other, your knees just barely grazing his.  He placed your hands once more on his chest, the beating of his heart rapid underneath your palms.  His thumbs rubbed firmly at your hands.

“Elevated pulse, dilated pupils, sweaty palms, all indications of arousal…”

“Yes Mycroft, we both know I’m being thoroughly seduced by you this evening…”

“No, my dear.  I wasn’t referring to you.  Can you not feel my heart beat?  Look into my eyes, (Y/N).  Know that I am feeling just as you are.”

Your lips parted as you realized that in fact he was just as worked up as you were.

“You have nothing to fear.  I will take good care of you, my darling, if you would allow me the honor.”

You nodded, your voice just above a whisper.  “Yes. Yes Mycroft, please.  I feel as though I may lose my nerve if we wait any longer.”

Mycroft took your hands into his, pulling you to him, his lips making simmering contact with yours as you nearly perched in his lap.  His hands roamed your back, cradling you to him, your fingertips dug into his shoulders. The kiss felt as though it lasted for a lifetime and a second all at once.  He was already pulling away from your, his breathing erratic, matching your own.

“Shall we retire upstairs?”

He stood up and you followed suit, Mycroft pulling you to him, a hand at the small of your back, leading you up the long staircase to the second floor.  He stopped in front of the double doors leading to the bedroom.  He took you by the shoulders, placing yet another searing kiss to your lips.

“You look absolutely exquisite tonight.  Please know that.  In my preparations for this evening I neglected to tell you so.  Forgive me.”

You smiled, one of your hands going to his cheek.  Without another word you turned the knob, the same dim light that illuminated the dining room replicated here.  It was as you expected of a house such as this one.  The room was lavishly furnished, a beautiful sitting area at one end of the room, tall windows with thick drapes, plush carpeting.  But the thing that caught your attention immediately was the enormous four poster bed with the heavy, ornate frame.  The curtains of the canopy were tied back, and looked like they didn’t let in even a sliver of light.  The bedding looked just as luxurious, already turned down for the evening.  You heard the click of the door behind you, Mycroft just observing you, already planning a course of action.  Hesitantly you made your way closer to the bed, knowing that he was at your heels. You turned to face him once more, the back of your legs hitting the edge of the bed.  He brought you in for another kiss his hands lingering at the zipper of your dress, silently asking your consent as you groaned into his mouth, bringing your arms up around his neck, the sound of the zipper being pulled down the most deafening sound you’ve heard all night.  You opened your eyes as you felt your dress pool around your ankles, leaving you clad in just your bra, panties, and heels.  His hungry gaze took you in, your confidence wilting underneath the heat of his stare.

“My (Y/N), meet my gaze. You are lovely.”

Your eyes found his once again, his eyes nearly black, pupils blown out from arousal.  He grabbed you by your hips, quickly depositing you back onto the bed, taking your heels off in the process.  You bounced a bit from the impact, a small smile gracing your lips at the levity of the situation.  Mycroft stepped away from the bed, picking up your dress, and laying it over the side of one of the armchairs.  He began to slowly undress, popping open the buttons of his shirt, unbuckling his braces, placing them both on top of your dress.  You couldn’t help but stare, transfixed.  You had waited for so long to see him without all of his layers, his “suit of armor.”  He caught you staring and only smirked.

“Are you watching me undress, dearest?”

“Yes.”

He snickered, toeing off his shoes, undoing the button and fly of his trousers, neatly putting them on the pile of discarded clothing.  Clad only in an undershirt, underwear, and socks (with sock-garters, of course), he made his way over to the bed, and your stomach fell.  You became nervous, unsure of yourself now that the moment was upon you.  Observant as ever, Mycroft approached you slowly, sitting at the side of the bed, carding a hand through your hair.  He began to bend down slowly, giving you enough time to object before his lips found yours yet again, his mouth moving against your own.  You felt his hand move from your hair, to touch your cheek, down your neck, making your back arch.  His lips continued their assault on your own until his hand reached your bra-clad breast, cupping one in his hand.  You gasped softly, his eyes snapping open to gauge the situation. Seeing as you were still in good spirits he continued, moving more onto the bed with you, his lips kissing down your jaw to find your neck, licking and sucking at the flesh there as he kneaded your breast, his other hand soon mimicking the other one.  

You continued to let out soft gasps and puffs of air, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your bra.  You opened your eyes, seeing him stare down at you.  You shared a small smile, his hands moving to the clasp at your back, unhooking and removing your bra, the article of clothing ending up somewhere in the room.  He stared at you unabashedly, his eyes softening as he looked back up at you, your lips parted, flustered.  His lips descended once again, this time taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling gently, his other hand continued to tend to your other breast.  You felt the bed dip around you as he swung a leg over your hips, his body above yours.  Your back arched once more off the bed as he peppered your breasts with kisses and nips, your hands trying desperately to find the hem of his shirt to pull it off of him.  He seemed to get the hint, only stopping momentarily to nearly rip his undershirt from his body, flinging it somewhere.  His mouth trailed lower, the pool of arousal that had been smoldering in your lower belly intensifying, as if a rubber band were being pulled taut.  His fingers hooked into your panties, halting his movements as he looked up at you, watching you smile and nod your consent. He pressed the softest, lightest kiss upon your mound and you swore that you could have spontaneously combust in that moment.  Your entire body arched off the bed, your hands finding purchase in the sheets, gripping tightly.

He continued to press feather-light kisses upon you, his mouth becoming more frantic at the sounds of your pleasured mews and whimpers.  His hands slid up your outer thighs, gripping them, hooking them around his shoulders as his mouth found its destination, his tongue firmly swiping against you.  You let out a strangled cry, your fingers finding his hair, holding him there, which he was happy to do as he lapped at you, the rubber band growing tighter and tighter, threatening to snap.  He continued until you couldn’t take it any longer.

“My…My, I can’t, I can’t…!”

He hummed against you, completely throwing you over the edge.  You shuddered as you came, feeling an intrusion slowly, gently enter you as you were trying to come down from the high.  You tried to stare down at him, your eyes unfocused as he began to slowly work a digit in and out of you, feeling around, trying to slowly open you up. He looked up at you knowingly.

“That’s it, my darling. You look so utterly delectable.” His breath was ragged, seeming just as aroused as you clearly were.  Before you knew it he was sliding another finger into you, the stretch becoming much easier to deal with.  Your muscles relaxed, his lips mashing against your as he move back up your body, his fingers still pumping and scissoring inside of you.  You could feel the hardness of his length press against your thigh, your hand moving in an attempt to cup him.  He grabbed your hand quickly enough, breathing against you.

“This is about you, my darling.  We have plenty of time for that.  To teach you. Tonight is about your pleasure.”

You trembled against him as he began to curl his fingers upward, stars starting to form in front of your eyes.  You knew you were just at the precipice of release, just a few moments longer…and then he withdrew his fingers.  He chuckled as you pouted at him, your hips trying to follow his fingers.

“There, there darling. You will get what you need soon enough.”

He sat up on his knees for a moment, removing the rest of his clothing, leaving him bare before you, bare before each other.  He hovered over you once again, kissing you yet again, your thighs accommodating for his hips.  You could feel his length pressed against you, your wet entrance aching to be filled. Mycroft took one of your hands into his, lacing your fingers together.  His face was so close to yours.

“My darling, never have I ever felt so close to anyone in this entire world, in my entire life.”

“I love you Mycroft.”

You heard the tell-tale sound of a condom being unwrapped and applied, knowing that this was really about to happen.  He began to slowly ease himself into you, making note of the way your face contorted to make sure he wasn’t inflicting any pain on you.  It felt agonizingly slow but he finally seated himself fully inside of you.  He hiked your legs up, encouraging you to cross your ankles at the small of his back, making him slide deeper inside of you.  You looked into his eyes and nodded as he began to move, his hands reaching underneath you, cradling you up against him as he thrust into you, skin slapping against skin.  You moaned and you felt yourself tighten around him, your lust-blown eyes staring up at him, marveling at how lovely he looked in the throes of pleasure.  You could feel that rubber band pulling and becoming tighter and tighter yet again, your body beginning to convulse as he let a hand wander down in between both of your bodies, fingers rubbing against your clit, pushing you over the edge.  You clung to him tightly as you found your release, your walls fluttering against him. Mycroft thrust into you a few more times before finding his own release, a soft groan escaping his lips before he collapsed next to you.

The both of you lie there for several minutes, no words being uttered, just trying to recover from post-coital bliss.  He finally rolled over onto his side, watching you, a hand ever so gently running up and down your body.

“How do you feel?”

You smiled lazily at him, scooting closer, welcoming the warmth of his body near yours.

“I feel…I feel like I’ve just shared a beautiful secret with you, that no one else knows, that no one else will know.  I feel heavy and light at the same time.  I also feel like gelatin.”

Mycroft chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face.  “I hope that you will allow me to cherish you in such a way for years to come.”

Your hand found his cheek, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone.  “I hope you’ll allow me to cherish you someday, my love.”

He grinned, pulling you on top of him.

“My darling, you have so much yet to learn.”

**And he taught you everything that he knew.**


End file.
